


When you need me

by bioplast_hero



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Healing, Long Distance Best Friends, M/M, Mutual Pining, Shiro needs help leaving an abusive boyfriend, safe and optimistic endings okay i promise, unconditional support
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 09:28:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23469169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioplast_hero/pseuds/bioplast_hero
Summary: Keith helps Shiro find the strength to leave his abusive boyfriend and make a fresh start.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron), shiro/oc
Comments: 147
Kudos: 247





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> cw this will not depict physical abuse, but the threat of escalation is very present, and all forms of abuse exist on a continuum with violence.
> 
> dedicating this to my dear friend: I’ll be here when you need me.

what was it this time?

He thinks I spend too much time with Allura.

Keith frowns down at his phone.

thought you guys talked about that tho?

time with your friends

you said he listened

Yeah, well.

Guess we'll talk about it again.

:(

Keith hates this. He hates watching Shiro go through this, again and again. He never thought this thing with Jake would last, not after those early months when the guy would get itchy when Shiro would put up boundaries. Jake was one of those guys who pushed.

Keith knows he was jealous from the start. He's held a torch for his best friend since, well, not quite the beginning but close enough.

But it wasn't just jealousy— never was. There were signs of trouble from the beginning.

His own pining aside, Keith didn't trust this new guy with Shiro's heart.

Never had he wanted more to be wrong about someone.

«---»

I can't believe you're moving so far, Keith! Next visit I'm going to have to fly!

don't give me that crap

you love to fly

I do. But that's not the point and you know it. :(

I know

direct flights tho

I'll have a foldout and everything

All grown up :D

damn right

Hey Keith?

yeah

Stay in touch, alright?

It's different without you here.

I'll always be here shiro

you know that

«---»

It's easy for Keith to slip into the memory of how he first met Shiro, the grad-ed TA for the class across the hall. Keith was a prickly sophomore transferring into the Garrison's program from out of town. The collision in the hallway bruised Keith's backside and also his pride, but being pulled to his feet by this handsome Adonis with a metal grip more than made up for that.

The details seem frozen in time— the way the man's eyes widened with surprise, crinkling near the corners. The deep, rich voice when the stranger remarked on “taking up the whole corridor” with a self-deprecating laugh. Keith remembers thinking it was stupidly accurate, blinking up at him mutely because what could he possibly say back to that?

Keith gave the man his name when he asked and got his in return, immediately liking how it felt on his lips. _Shiro._

That was such a long time ago. For a time they would greet each other in passing, a shy smile or maybe a wave. Just “Hello, Keith,” spoken with so much warmth, and his answering “Hi, Shiro,” which never failed to paint Keith's cheeks with a slight blush.

It felt surprisingly good to be recognized, to be _remembered_ by someone like Shiro.

«---»

Settling in well?

yeah it's good

job's good

just what I hoped

That's amazing, Keith. I'm really proud of you, following your dreams like this.

They're lucky to have you.

Keith scrubs a hand over his face. It's embarrassing how he positively preens whenever Shiro says shit like this.

thank you

how are things in arizona?

Oh, you know. Nothing changes around here. Certainly not the weather!

noPe :)

Campus is the same. Same drama, but the students are always great. You know that's why I stay.

There's one this term who reminds me so much of you.

what? how so?

I don't know how to explain it, really. So capable, passionate. Ready to take on the world.

Just needs a little encouragement. :)

Keith smiles to himself and it's a watery thing as he types out a reply.

can think of no one better at that

Stop, you'll make me soft!

you started it!!

besides

it's the truth

I really miss you, Keith.

miss you too, shiro

«---»

Keith and Shiro got closer. It happened slowly, through Keith's first year at Garrison and the years that followed, but they became inseparable. Soon, Keith would graduate from undergrad, starting in on a Master's of Social Work.

Shiro accepted an offer to stay on at the Garrison and teach full-time, and that wasn't a surprise— he was so good at it. So encouraging, so persuasive and perceptive, firm but always kind. Shiro was the undisputed darling of the humanities faculty.

So Shiro became an adjunct while Keith plugged away at his degree.

There were rules about fraternizing with students, even ones in other departments, but it was never like that between them.

Keith knows it _could_ have been— that there was interest there, and not one-sided either. Shiro started out with a pretty decent poker face, but it didn't take long before Keith could read him like a book on a sunny afternoon. It wasn't hard to catch the emotions playing across his face: something like hunger, sometimes, or maybe longing.

And it didn't matter if Keith knew. It didn't need to be hidden, because there was a boundary there. Keith was, indeed, a student. It was important to Shiro, and that was always enough for Keith.

Keith never pushed. He could never do that to Shiro.

«---»

he actually said that?

He didn't mean it like that, he just. Matt was joking around but it did sound like flirting. It just made Jake uncomfortable.

k but it sounds like he's not listening to you?

friends outside your partner are really important

Keith could almost hear Shiro's eyes rolling.

Obviously. It's not a big deal, it's insecurity. Nothing we can't work through.

I trust you just

he should trust you too

«---»

Grad school Keith would probably admit to wishing Shiro was a little _less_ honorable about all of this.

But then he'd catch himself and know that wasn't true at all. It was part of why Keith loved the man. Keith had dealt with some real scumbag adults in the system. He knew what to look for long before he knew what it meant. _Abuse._ Keith dove headfirst into a life as a social worker just to try and make a difference.

Shiro wouldn't set himself apart. He was always the first to point out his flaws, and would smirk quietly remembering some minor rebellion. But above all, Shiro was good. He would say he was no one special, but he was.

So they were friends, although the word was never adequate. Keith thought he'd had friends before, but they were nothing like this.

Best friends, then.

They would talk late into the night, sometimes climbing up onto the roof of the humanities building— now _that_ was a rule Shiro didn't mind breaking. Or driving off into the desert to lay out on the hood of Shiro's car, watching sunsets fade into endless stars.

There, they would share everything, all of their old wounds and fears and tender, private dreams. Shiro's accident stole his dream of becoming a pilot, even after he'd beaten a childhood disease. But Shiro didn't just stop there: he was saving up for a hover bike, talked about taking up racing. They couldn't keep him from flying.

Keith spoke of being on his own, what he learned, how he coped. Struggling to remember his dad's face. Meeting his Uncle Kolivan late in high school, turning his life around.

Meeting Shiro.

“That guy,” Shiro smiled wryly. “What about it?”

Keith grinned at the sky but couldn't quite bring himself to meet the man's eyes.

“Just, I think my life here would have been a lot different if it weren't for you.”

With Shiro, he wasn't alone anymore.

«---»

Do you ever think about onion rings?

lol no

but I think about you dunking em in bbq for some infernal reason

Hey

and catching napkins you almost let blow away

and I think about burning the backs of my thighs on the hood of that junker you used to drive

Maybe your shorts were too short ;)

I looked bomb in those shorts

I mean.

It's true and you should say it.

But it wasn't the chevy's fault, to be clear.

can't believe you drive a responsible car now

Hey! I'm gonna start taking offense to this real quick.

And by responsible you mean functional??

Because in that case, yes and no regrets.

🤨

Okay okay, one regret! 😭

I loved that car but I'm done being stranded on the side of the Arizona highway, Keith. It's not just that Jake hated it.

And you try having a metal arm in this climate without AC!

fair

So, bet you don't see many stars in Oregon?

not as many as I'd like

do you

ever go on the rooftop anymore?

No.

…

Not without you.

«---»

Keith remembers when Shiro met Jake. He'd seen Shiro flirt with guys or even take someone home, nothing too serious but enough to have a sense for how that usually went. And Shiro was popular enough that he had a certain ease about letting people down easy.

Jake was different— when he put on the charm, Shiro sat up straighter, leaned in closer. He clearly saw something in him, and liked the attention. From there it all happened alarmingly fast.

If Keith kept his jealousy in check for one minute, he could see the attraction: this guy was handsome, outgoing, sociable, talented— not like Shiro was, but no one was like Shiro. Shiro was one of a kind.

And Shiro deserved to be happy.

Keith's private agony over the new boyfriend was one thing. Allowing Shiro to suffer along with him was quite another.

Shiro didn't owe Keith anything. Even knowing that he _was_ interested, once, didn't change that. Students were off-limits, and why should Shiro be hanging on for that to change? They never spoke of it, never really even hinted at it.

Keith shocked himself, seeing how desperately he'd wanted it only once those hopes were dashed.

And it ate at him for sure, the knowledge that for four, almost five whole years something had been possible with Shiro, if only Keith hadn't been a student where Shiro taught. Keith stewed over whether he should have transferred somewhere, anywhere else. Whether that would have been the opportunity they needed to give it a shot. He didn't doubt it would have been worth it, if he'd only considered—

Had Keith taken Shiro for granted?

But it was too late now. Keith would graduate with his Master's in mere months, and Shiro had met someone.

And that someone would be a fool to ever let him go.

«---»

We've had fights, but never like this.

I'm

fuck, Keith, I'm furious.

fuck

shiro it's been getting worse

hasn't it

I didn't think it was! We've been so good for a while now. It's been so much better, nothing like last month.

Keith waits.

Then Jake just explodes over me wanting to teach another class next term.

that's not fair to you

you compromise with him all the time

I know you

Exactly! That's what I'm saying!

It's not like I'm acting like it doesn't impact him, I know it means I'll be working more, but he doesn't get to decide this

or, I don't know, bowl me over. I thought we could be adults about it, at least.

you deserve that, shiro

just, never forget that

ok?

«---»

shiro

don't you think he's doing this on purpose?

?

j loses his temper to control your behavior

you see that, don't you?

The air is thick as Keith waits on his side, staring hard at his phone screen. After a while he can see that Shiro is typing. And typing.

Keith, I know you deal with a lot at work. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have dumped all this on you.

what? no you're my best friend

I care

so much shiro

But it's not like that.

not like what? abuse?

I'm just venting, you know? I'm probably explaining this all wrong, making it sound worse.

but you aren't tho

shiro listen to me, please?

The pause is excruciatingly long.

You know I'll always listen to you.

Keith breathes a sigh of relief. He just needs to keep Shiro from shutting down on him, keep him open, or— fuck, he fears he could lose him forever. Keith knows what it looks like, defending someone who's hurting you. Tearing Jake a new asshole, as much as Keith wants to, will only push Shiro away.

The moment is delicate. Keith feels the knife's edge beneath his feet.

the thing is, yes, I see this at work

it doesn't start out like most people think

the things j is doing, he's probably not even aware why he does it, just knows that it works and that it feels good

it's like an addiction

It takes a minute for a reply.

Are you done?

Keith's heart lurches.

for now yeah

Shit, I didn't mean it like that Keith, I'm sorry.

Can this night get any worse?

Keith thinks bitterly that it can, watching as Shiro types, 3 dots bouncing as he edits his thoughts beyond recognition.

…

It's just I don't think you understand. It's not usually like this.

I'm just angry right now. He had no right to say what he said.

Keith blinks back the sting in his eyes.

you're right, he didn't

«---»

After graduating, Keith took the best opportunities he could get in his field. At first that meant moving across town. Then to the next town over. Eventually the next state. He earned himself a bit of a reputation for sniffing out and reporting foster abuse— nothing newsworthy, and that wasn't the point, but his work made quite an impression. The opportunities were exciting and the work mattered.

Keith worked his way into his dream job way out in the Pacific Northwest, working directly with at-risk queer youth. It was a very progressive program, one of the best in the country, working to replace traditional parole with restorative justice. Keith was making a difference every day.

I'm so proud of you, Keith.

I always knew you'd do great things.

Shiro was nothing but supportive. He told Keith how much he missed seeing him— said so pretty often, in fact— but never, ever wanted to hold Keith back.

They still texted every day, and called most weekends. Jake questioned it often. It wasn't hard for Keith to get the picture, no matter what excuses Shiro made for it: Jake resented the closeness they shared.

Shiro didn't back down, not exactly, but he pivoted. He tried calling when Jake was busy. He wasn't hiding their friendship, he said. “Trying to be flexible, that's all.”

“Um, okay,” Keith offered hesitantly.

“Jake's just insecure sometimes. I mean, I can't blame him, I guess. It's no secret how much your friendship means to me,” Shiro paused. “How much you'll always mean to me.”

Between the sincerity and the warning beneath it, Keith felt his stomach doing nauseating flips. His voice sounded as strangled as he felt.

“You too, Shiro. Always.”

«---»

Check this out.

Keith clicks the image Shiro sent. It's a screenshot of a flight confirmation with Shiro's name on it.

!!!

C'mon don't act surprised! I always come visit at least every year, don't I?

hey it is you who read surprise instead of excitement, I'm just 😎

Fair.

I can't wait to come see your place!

Keith chews on his lip. There's no right way to ask this. Just keep it upbeat, he thinks.

should I make up the foldout or you guys have plans?

If you're sure it's no trouble?

Just me this time. Jake has to work.

It punches the air right out of Keith's lungs. Now he's definitely surprised, relieved, elated.

I got you, don't worry

can't wait

«---»

“Have you talked to Shiro?”

Keith pinches the phone to his ear with his shoulder while he fumbles for his keys, damp grocery bags trying to rip while he struggles to focus on the lock and Pidge's question at the same time.

The bag does tear but he only loses an onion which he can chase after and dust off in a minute. He really needs to remember those reusable bags when he walks to the store.

“We talked yesterday, why?”

Keith aims for casual even though he feels his heart racing. He never stops worrying about Shiro.

“Well it's just you, then,” she scoffs, “we never see Shiro anymore. He lives four blocks away!”

Keith spills his haul on the kitchen counter and does his best to take a quieting breath through the tension, tapping on his speakerphone.

“Have you tried stopping by?” he asks.

“You don't think I'd think of that, genius?” Pidge laughs darkly, no humor in it at all. “Jake opened the door last time. God, you could cut the tension with a knife when Shiro stepped out to sit with me on the stoop.”

Keith blinks. “But he- he did step out?” He's honestly surprised by even that, with the way things have been going.

“I mean, sure, but- your eyes woulda bled, Keith, hearing the way he apologized! Said they were just surprised, made all these excuses. And the asshole listening from the kitchen that whole time? Makes my skin crawl.”

Keith scrubs his face with his hands. “When was this?”

“Couple weeks ago.”

Keith curses to himself, not even trying to hide it.

“Hunk and Allura still see him on campus, but that's it. No one else. I'm about to leave a puppy on his doorstep, the cutest damn puppy Shiro's ever laid eyes on, just so he _has_ to go out for walks.”

“Yeah. And maybe Jake's allergic,” Keith mutters darkly.

“Maybe then Matt or someone can corner him at the dog park.”

Keith hops up to sit on his counter. One of the perks of living alone seems to be the option to be a barbarian if he wants, though really Keith takes too much pride in having a home to take it for granted.

“Am I crazy?” Pidge asks, her voice going uncharacteristically soft. “I'm not above getting puppies. Wh- what can we do?”

“I don't know about the puppy, Pidge,” Keith sighs, “but I like where your head is at. And you're not crazy.” He chews his lip. “Shiro's coming to visit in a couple weeks, did you know that? Without Jake,” Keith adds quickly.

“Oh! Keith that's the best news!”

“I know. I couldn't believe it.” Keith's chest feels suddenly tight. “He still talks to me, so there's that. I'll try to get him to see you guys. I'm sure he needs it.”

«---»

Alright if I move my trip? Looking at new dates.

Keith's eyebrows shoot up at the message. The phrasing is careful so that Keith won't automatically ask why.

Keith's not playing along.

everything alright?

I mean, no. If you must know.

course I want to know

what happened?

Fighting.

shit I'm sorry

about the visit?

Not at first, but then yes that too. You name it, we've fought about it.

shiro

Gotta run, any of these dates work?

Keith doesn't open the image right away. His insides are on fire. It's been a long time since he wanted to punch something like he does now, needed to break something— or break his fucking hand, whatever comes first. It's reckless and ugly and a feeling so old he thought he'd left it behind.

He grasps for words instead, the things he most needs Shiro to hear.

any dates

you can show up at my door any day or night

you'll have a place here

Keith didn't expect an answer but it still hurts.

«---»

shiro I'm worried

It's not like that. It was just a bad fight. He's not

I mean

I yelled too, Keith.

you were defending yourself

It's not that simple.

did I say it was simple?

this is some of the hardest shit there is

…

shiro?

It's not like he's hitting me.

that's not the only kind of abuse and you know it

I've gotta get going.

wait

shiro, please

Don't worry about me, Keith. I promise I'm okay.

We'll figure this out.

«---»

I know you don't want to hear this shiro

j needs help

I've tried to get him to see someone. So many times.

and once you've tried enough, what then?

you could leave him you know

Keith.

?

That's not helpful.

I disagree

We were actually doing SO well, on the same page for so long until this.

Even when I booked the trip! He said he was happy for me. It's just car issues always make him irritable. It was bad timing.

…

Keith?

I'm here

can you call?

Can't right now.

why not? we're talking anyway

Jake's right here.

so step outside?

Keith, I don't need to give him a reason to fight me today, alright?

this is not okay shiro

this whole situation

he's got you trapped and I can hardly stand it

He loves me. I know he does.

it's not about love, shiro! it's about control

I promise I'll call you later, okay?

«---»

Shiro doesn't call, that night or the next day. The hours pass slow and silent. It's a rare, brilliant spring day and Keith would rather if it would rain. It doesn't feel like the sun should be able to shine.

Shiro's not safe and it's all he can think about.

It's not even the fear that he could get hurt. It is, and it isn't. Shiro is strong and capable, but that changes nothing— the danger is just as real. Keith sees it all the time, the victims no one spares a glance for, the ones that _don't fit the bill._

Shiro is gentle. Shiro is good and kind, open and trusting, and Keith knows there's a special place in hell for someone who uses that goodness to hurt this man.

Jake 'loves' him, he thinks. It tastes like ash in Keith's mouth.

In the late afternoon, Keith calls Pidge. He asks her if Matt's there, too, and soon he's on the line, too.

“Let's talk about that puppy. Unless you've got a better idea.”

«---»

are you safe?

Keith.

Yeah I'm just in bed.

it's noon

You think I don't know that?

sorry

shiro it's just you never called

what am I supposed to think?

Sorry I worried you.

Never meant to drag you into this.

listen

shiro I'm never going to be anything but on your side, ok?

all the way

…

What did I ever do to deserve you, Keith?

you can't be serious

I am. I don't get it. Why do you put up with me?

no one means more to me than you do

I thought you knew that

I did. Guess that just seemed like a long time ago.

it was

and it will never change

«---»

Keith?

yeah I'm here

shiro?

I'm just so fucking tired.

call me

I can't right now. It's late and we'll just fight again.

I'm always here

no matter what time it is

just call me as soon as it's safe

I'll try.

«---»


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise art for this chapter! Check out this beautiful [drawing](https://twitter.com/bioplast_hero/status/1246289053600731136) of these tender boys by [Ribbitsplace](https://twitter.com/ribbitsplace) that makes me so emo!
> 
> (Psst the doggos are unsplash images with prisma filters... basically me saying here, have puppies!)
> 
> PSA: no puppies will be harmed in the making of this fic. I know that’s common in DV ;__; but that’s not our story here. Also, author does not support the gifting of animals! Very irresponsible, don't do it kids. ✌️

Keith's phone chimes early that Sunday morning. He's never had a special text tone for anyone before, but he had to make an exception when any notification was sounding a klaxon in his hindbrain.

_It could be Shiro._

But this is Shiro's tone. Keith dives for it, suddenly wide awake.

It's a photo.

Um who do I have to blame for this?

Keith realizes they should have talked about this more. He honestly thought it'd take a bit of doing, more than a day at least, but the Holts were a special kind of unstoppable.

And maybe that wasn't a bad thing.

Maybe they should have at least gotten their story straight.

who's this? 😍

Keith don't play dumb, I don't believe you.

You can't just leave puppies on peoples' doorsteps, christ.

…

Wait.

Matt!

technically pidge, if I were a betting man

You are the most abysmal liar.

Another photo follows. It's a bit blurry but the pup is in Shiro's lap trying to get a good lick at his face. Keith can just make out the blur of Shiro's smile at the edge of the frame.

Honestly, this already feels like a success.

I guess I should say you're welcome

You Are The Worst.

I love him.

The flecks on his face, I can't believe how cute he is, like a galaxy.

I'm naming him Comet.

Keith snorts.

comet

really?

sounds kinda destructive, might be a bad omen ;)

Galaxy?

Cosmos Star Child?

…

I kinda like that one.

Keith laughs out loud. He can't remember the last time he even smiled, and right now his face aches with it. This was the best-worst idea Pidge ever had.

kosmo

with a k

You think so?

Kosmo

…

I am so fucked 🤣 how dare you!

He's perfect.

«---»

Keith wakes up to new puppy photos every day now, with more smattered throughout his day. Dogs are allowed on campus on-leash, so Kosmo becomes Shiro's constant companion.

The onslaught of pictures is so welcome. Each one lets Keith know Shiro's okay. It's easy to reach out like this.

And it's not terrible that it turns out Jake likes dogs just fine. It's less of a fight than anyone expected, and honestly Keith knows why. It's never about the why, it's the _when._ They'd just had an awful fight before they were hit with Operation Box of Puppy, meaning Jake was knee-deep in the usual apology cycle. It'd be a week or two before the asshole needed to scratch that itch.

Some of the photos are of Shiro in the yard with Kosmo, clearly snaps Jake's taken for him.

It's the happiest Keith's seen him in literal years, which is both miraculous and devastating.

He looks thin at first, tired like he doesn't sleep properly at all, and it breaks Keith's heart. But a Border Collie is a really active breed, and Shiro's nothing if not the most dedicated puppy dad the world has ever known.

Typical Shiro, really.

Between the neighborhood walks and not-too-hot spring days, it doesn't take long for the change to be evident.

Shiro wakes up excited. It's such a good start.

“Hey Keith!” Shiro sounds breathless with laughter, like he's been chasing his pride and joy.

“Shiro,” Keith smiles into the line. “It's so good to hear your voice.”

«---»

Keith starts rating the photos, especially as Shiro gets more artistic about it. There's one of Kosmo gnawing a bone in a field of flowers that's ridiculously good.

9/10

you've outdone yourself shiro

C'mon what do I gotta do for a 10 around here?

That one's a masterpiece.

it is

9 is nothing to sniff at

Geez. Tough Crowd.

❤️

«---»

The fighting doesn't stop, of course. Keith grits his teeth and watches it cycle round and round.

But it's different now. When Shiro goes out walking or running with Kosmo, he runs into people. Friends, acquaintances. They ask him how he's doing while they give Kosmo all the scritches he deserves.

Dog pictures filter into all his friends' inboxes, a weird portal into Shiro's daily life, but no one's complaining about it.

When he's out with the dog, he'll make calls— Allura, Matt, and mostly Keith. He's kind of hiding it, downplaying at least, but no one complains about that, either. Shiro needs to know who's out there, asking after him, wondering, _caring._

It's autumn now, and the leaves are turning in Oregon. It's Keith's second fall here already and he's shocked by the thought.

His heart is still in Arizona.

Not that there aren't parts of Keith's heart deep in his work, but he can't help but feel fractured.

Keith gets to know people, including this infuriating kid Lance who Keith kind of loves to hate and can't quite bring himself to call a friend. He knows it's only a matter of time though.

Keith considers him a potential roommate, not for the money so much as the spare bedroom feels opulent and empty. Keith wouldn't mind cooking with someone for a change. He dismisses the idea pretty quickly, thinking of Shiro.

Shiro might need the room. Could be that it never happens, or it could happen so fast.

Keith tries dating. It's casual and an occasional encounter certainly takes the edge off, but that's about all the enthusiasm he can muster for the idea. Keith's always been honest, and nothing kills the mood like saying you're hung up on someone else and don't honestly see that changing.

Keith knows it's love, but he doesn't say that. If he ever comes clean about what he feels, Shiro will be the first to hear it.

It doesn't feel molten anymore, though he doesn't mistake that for it lessening. It's the kind of love that's forged into something solid, unyielding. There's nothing Keith is as sure of. He keeps moving, but he doesn't move on.

If he thinks of Shiro's pretty lips when he's with other men, no one needs to know.

«---»

Keith is getting railed into his mattress when his phone chimes. He moves to pull away.

“Hey hey, whoa,” the man coos low in his throat, gripping Keith's hip tighter. “It'll still be there after we both come, man,” he chuckles as he thrusts again hard.

Keith shakes his head. “It's important, let me up.”

“I— uh, okay?” The guy rolls off immediately, to his credit, as Keith dives to collect his phone from the rug to read Shiro's message.

Why does everyone know?

Sweat-slick bangs cling to Keith's face. He hasn't even caught his breath.

know what?

Had a weird interaction with my department head.

Plus ones are always optional, it's the faculty picnic, who cares? But she makes a special point of telling me they're optional!

I hate this.

crap, does she even know j?

No, just. Shirogane's the talk of the town, apparently! Trouble at home!

They don't know anything about my life, it's so invasive. Fuck them.

“You, uh,” the stranger in his bed deliberates his words, “you gonna be a minute?”

“Sorry, I,” Keith bites his tongue, thinking and typing, failing at both.

The guy scoffs quietly and reaches for his jeans. Keith doesn't stop him.

Allura wouldn't have said anything, do you think?

This is why I don't tell people about our fights.

I'm sorry :(

Well I know it wasn't you!

no but

someone might have… noticed?

Shiro's been dreading people ‘laughing at him,' getting just so fixated on it at times. Keith doesn't expect a reply, taking a calming breath.

I'm sorry it's uncomfortable

there's no shame in it tho

people care about you

Fully dressed, the man Keith brought home pauses at the door. “Listen, I don't know what your story is, but whoever that is, I hope you figure it the fuck out.”

Keith sits stunned as the guy nods curtly and leaves.

Keith slumps against his pillow with a sigh. He can't even be mad— honestly he feels like an asshole. He can't help the way he jumps when it's Shiro.

Can he?

Maybe he's too wrapped up in it. Maybe that's not healthy. Keith looks down at his phone to see what Shiro replied.

Well I don't want their pity.

«---»

Have a minute, Keith?

of course

…

did something happen?

You could say that.

I got fed up, I guess. Told J he's smothering me.

oh shit

how'd he take that?

Not great, but then. I threatened I'd leave.

If he couldn't stop suffocating me like this.

Keith's stomach clenches, rioting with conflicted emotions. He wants it to be true— fuck, he wants that more than anything. Shiro needs to get out. Keith also knows it's not as simple as that.

wow

shiro

are you safe?

Yeah, Keith, he uh

Backed down after that. I think I scared him.

Never seen him shut down like that.

it's not your fault shiro

You don't know that!

yes I do!

you're the best person I've ever known

Not anymore, Keith.

I'm angry all the time.

anyone would be

it's not your fault

you told him the truth- he's hurting you!

if he can't hear that then he doesn't deserve you

…

you've been thinking about it then?

leaving?

Yeah.

And no, it's messy.

If he'd just let up a little, maybe I wouldn't have to?

you know what I think

Tell me again?

you deserve so much better shiro

you don't need him

leaving will suck but then you'll be free

…

How are you so sure?

shiro I'll make sure

«---»

Keith unlocks his phone in the checkout line to admire the latest Kosmo picture from Shiro. He can't help the sound that bubbles out of him.

oh shiro

now that's a 10

Really?? What'd I do this time?

dunno he's just the happiest

that's all I ever want

Noted. :)

hair's getting long

I know! It's so shaggy and perfect!

thought you'd say he needs a trim

What? No! I wouldn't snip a single hair on his head.

He always looks wild and free.

…

Hey so

I'm coming to visit you.

If that's okay?

It's so unexpected, Keith fumbles the phone. He manages to catch it even with his arms full.

god yeah of course

when?

With Kosmo too.

Next week 😅 is that too soon?

nonsense

it could be now and wouldn't be too soon

The grocery clerk purses her lips at Keith on his phone. He lowers it for her sake, tries saying hello like a well-adjusted person. She spares him when they both hear it vibrate again.

Geez Keith, make a guy blush!

Keith feels the color burning on his own cheeks.

not my fault you make me say it every time

nothing's changed

He thanks the woman as she hands him his bag with a practiced smile. He gets a few steps around the corner before he figures out what to ask.

and j knows?

He does.

Not suffocating me, remember?

how could I forget

«---»

Landed!

Crate and suitcase acquired.

That message comes with a photo of a panting collie on an aqua green leash. It's outlandishly cute.

Lyft headed your way!

Keith paces in the kitchen, straightening things that are already too straight and mostly wringing his hands. He doesn't remember feeling nervous about seeing Shiro ever before.

It's never been this long, but Keith knows it isn't that.

He needs to get through to Shiro.

Keith is already on the porch when Shiro steps out of the car, taking a few quick strides to meet him and shouldering his bag. Shiro takes Kosmo's crate in one hand and leads the overgrown puppy in the other.

Shiro praises his small modest house like it's a mansion as they skip up the stairs, belongings dropped and leash unclipped just inside the door.

“C'mere,” Shiro sighs, turning to Keith with arms outstretched.

It's easy to go to him and sink into that strong embrace that he loves. Shiro's soap is unfamiliar now but _he_ isn't— Keith knows him like they'd never been apart. The time just fades away.

They linger. Keith thinks it's his doing, but then it's definitely Shiro too, breathing his name at Keith's ear and making Keith shiver and squeeze tighter.

Shiro's smile is almost a grimace when he meets Keith's eyes briefly. “I uh- really missed you.”

«---»

Shiro insists on taking off his shoes inside; it's the kind of inconsequential detail that brings everything rushing back. Keith winds up kicking his off, too, in solidarity.

“I've got tea,” Keith offers.

Shiro tucks his hands into his blue jean pockets and his shoulders inch up toward his ears. “Any coffee?”

“Since when do you drink coffee?” Keith stares.

Shiro shrugs, glancing around the kitchen at the little plants Keith keeps and tries to remember to water so they won't die on him.

“Trying something new,” Shiro offers quietly.

Keith whistles; it's dramatic but that doesn't stop him. “Will wonders never cease.”

Of course Keith wonders if coffee is because of Jake, just one more way Shiro's gotten used to making himself small. He almost insists on the tea. But he's never not listened to Shiro, and he's not about to start second-guessing him now.

While Keith sets up the kettle and gets a pour-over ready, Shiro leans toward the kitchen window until the sunlight flares in his forelock and the ice gray of his eyes.

“I never told you. I like the hair.”

Shiro runs his fingers through the fluffy white streak self-consciously.

“Not too weird?”

“Not on you,” Keith hedges. Shiro snorts.

“So it is weird.”

“It makes you look like a prince,” Keith rushes to say. He's not sure why he says it, his brain-to-mouth filter proving suspect in Shiro's company.

And that's familiar too, isn't it?

Keith had forgotten what it was like, letting any passing thought waft in his best friend's direction. Well, _almost_ any. Something about Shiro makes it feel safe to just be.

Glancing up at Shiro's face, Keith can't read the expression he finds there and for a moment his stomach churns uncomfortably as their eyes lock.

“Oh,” Shiro's mouth falls open a little bit, and if it weren't for the startled laugh that bubbles out of him Keith might've started apologizing for- he's not sure what- being an idiot, maybe.

Shiro glances away then, but he can't hide the deep blush working its way down his neck to the v of his well-fitted tee. His smile is a fragile thing.

“Well, when you put it like that.”

«---»

“What an angel,” Keith praises as he scratches his nails through Kosmo's ruff. The dog leans against the sofa and into Keith's touch approvingly.

“Don't move,” Shiro says evenly, eyes on his phone screen poised to take a photo from the chair opposite them.

“Really?” Keith rolls his eyes but his laugh is admittedly fond.

Shiro blushes deeply, though he takes the photo anyway. Keith is used to teasing Shiro but something about it doesn't feel right just yet. Something feels off. He changes tack.

“You've gotten damn good with that thing,” Keith observes.

Shiro shakes his head, eyes focused squarely on his dog. “They're just phone pictures, Keith. Camera does all the work.”

Keith raises an eyebrow. He waits expectantly until Shiro cracks, rubbing a hand over his neck and muttering, “Keeps me sane I guess.”

“Shiro—”

“Don't look at me like that.”

Keith pulls up short at the sharp change in his tone. “Like what?”

“Like I'm about to break.”

“No,” Keith feels his face crumple pitifully before he can regain control over it. “No, Shiro, I think you're the strongest person I know.”

Shiro avoids his eyes until he can't anymore, glancing up at Keith's eyes like he's not ready to see what's there.

Keith swallows. “It's just… you shouldn't have to be.”

«---»

Shiro clams up after that exchange, so they talk about other things for a while. Shiro wants to see the neighborhood so they decide to take Kosmo out for a run. The air is a bit crisp, perfect for working up a sweat. Shiro ducks into the bathroom to change while Keith digs for a pair of shorts in his closet.

Not just any pair, but the short red ones that really make his ass look great. Keith tries to not overthink things, but what's the harm in looking good? It's a victimless crime.

Besides, he knows Shiro will emerge in those sinful leggings he likes to run in. Keith fights fire with fire, always has.

He finds Shiro standing at his patio door looking outside, phone pressed to his ear. With his back turned Keith notes the tension in his shoulders, prosthetic fingers flexing at his hip.

Shiro doesn't say much, just light little comments about the flight being fine and the weather being nice and cool.

Keith makes a point of stepping heavily so Shiro knows he's there, reaching for his own phone on the side table.

“Uh huh,” Shiro agrees, “yeah it's a nice little house. Nice back yard. You'd like it,” he offers.

Keith grimaces at the thought of Jake entering his fucking house. He's not sure he could take it.

There's a message from Shiro in Keith's notifications, the photo he took earlier of Keith loving on Kosmo with a bashful smile. It's a good picture; Keith knows when his smile is genuine, and this is it— the kind of smile that Shiro pulls from him more than anyone else.

Shiro's long silence pulls Keith's eyes up to look at him again. Still looking away, Shiro's whole body has gone rigid, like he's holding himself very still. Keith's nerves prickle all over at every little tell.

“When have I ever?” Shiro replies to some unknown accusation, his voice even and clear but somehow small.

Silence. An out-breath that would be a sigh, probably, if Shiro dared.

Keith drops his phone a bit loudly onto the end table with an obnoxious clunk.

“Sorry,” Keith mutters, not sorry in the least. He gets up to walk to the kitchen, filling a sport bottle just to have something to do.

And it works; Shiro's demeanor shifts as Keith interrupts the airspace, like Shiro's suddenly aware of himself and the room around him. He waits a beat or two to break into whatever Jake is still saying.

“I hear you. Hey, so- Keith's ready to go here. I should get going,” his tone is apologetic while his demeanor is not.

“Yes, yeah. I'll call later,” Shiro rubs his neck like he's trying to hide, speaking very low. “Love you too.”

Keith feels it like walking into a window. _Fuck._ It wasn't a shock when it was shiny and new, but after everything? It burns. And it's anyone's guess whether the sentiment is genuine or just resigned. Shiro is clearly uncomfortable, but he seems mostly uncomfortable being heard. By Keith.

It's an awful feeling, even if Keith can think of plenty of reasons for it.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Shiro calls, his voice a bit loud in the small space, overly cheerful. Keith wants so badly to call bullshit on it, but he shouldn't; let the man breathe for once. Let him remember what it feels like to relax.

Keith looks up, tossing his bangs from his eyes with a jerk of his head. Arranging his features into something calm and steady, he tries for a reassuring smile.

“Ready to go?” Keith thinks the words _old timer,_ their playful taunt, but keeps it to himself.

«---»

The leggings are, in a word, sinful.

And Keith thinks he's not imagining it that Shiro uses Kosmo as an excuse to jog ahead more than once. Not that Keith's complaining about the view.

Keith calls out points of interest— a coffee shop he likes, the yard with a tiny Shinto shrine lovingly tended in the corner, the house painted with murals like it's been very elaborately tagged.

“Only in Portland,” Shiro laughs through his panting breath.

But they don't talk much, rather falling into a rhythm of footfalls and heavy breathing that is companionable and quiet. Keith takes the leash for a while, loving the way it feels to run with this beautiful, powerful creature. Keith wants a dog of his own, has for a while, though he worries he won't be home enough what with working odd hours all around the city. It's not like Shiro's work, where Kosmo sleeps under his desk while he lectures or grades papers.

“Don't get too attached,” Shiro chuckles, “I am bringing him back home, ya know.”

Keith grins. “Shiro, I'd never take your dog from you, scout's honor.”

“You were never a scout!”

“Guess you'd better hope I'm honorable, then,” Keith breathes a laugh. “I'm glad you have him.”

“Me too,” Shiro replies with feeling. It makes Keith's heart lurch in his chest.

They make it to the park, slowing to an ambling walk, doing some lunges and light stretches while Kosmo bounds around leash-free for a while. The grass is kind of dry and brittle underfoot, mixed with early leaf fall.

Keith clears his throat. “Everything okay earlier?”

Shiro sighs. “Sorry you had to hear that, Keith.”

“Nope, no apologies allowed,” Keith keeps his tone light, taking a seat in the grass and stretching over his right knee. “I just want to be there for you. But I won't push,” he adds simply.

Shiro bites his lip, making up his mind. He squats down, moving to sit and stretch as Keith is doing.

“Jake's always been… jealous, of you. I mean, I'm sure he would be anyway,” Shiro gestures vaguely in Keith's direction in a way that says _just look at you_ and definitely brings color to Keith's cheeks in response because- holy shit.

“I've let a lot of his behavior slide,” Shiro continues, looking determined. “I know that I have. But you're the one I won't let go. He hates that.”

The honesty is stunning. Keith blinks dumbly at his best friend and his stupidly pretty face. The heat of Shiro's gaze is distracting, to say the least, while Keith grasps for an adequate response.

“Wow,” Keith breathes. “Shiro, I— thank you?”

Shiro blinks at him like he didn't expect this. “For what?”

Keith bends to retie his shoes just to have something to do with his hands and his eyes. “For, um, not letting Jake come between us, I guess.” He stops fidgeting long enough to meet Shiro's eyes. “I'd be devastated, you know.”

Shiro's jaw sets with determination. “Never gonna happen, Keith. Don't worry about it. You're stuck with me. You and Kosmo.”

Keith frowns. “It's not okay that he makes you let anyone go.”

Shiro doesn't have a response. He seems to consider one, but the silence drags on until the subject falls away and others take its place.

Shiro asks about Keith's life here, and it's a bit odd in the context; Shiro knows all this stuff already. Most of it, anyway.

“Seeing anyone?” Shiro asks casually. Keith manages not to choke on his tongue.

“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p' with a certain finality, based on recent disastrous attempts in the dating arena.

“No? How's that possible— I thought this was where all the gays were?” Shiro jokes, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

Keith can't help his startled laugh. “Yeah, _all_ the gays, sure enough. What, you didn't see ‘em? There's so many you can see us from space, Shiro.”

The belly laugh feels good, especially the deep sound of Shiro panting with laughter as he tips back into the grass. “I knew it!” he cackles. Shiro props himself up on one elbow and the ease in his smile makes warmth pool low in Keith's stomach.

“Well you'll have to show me, then.”

Keith freezes. “Show you… ?”

“Bars, right? Clubs? There's got to be something going on in this town. Figured I should live it up while I'm here.”

“You- want to go clubbing?”

“Why not? Know anywhere we can go dancing?”

Keith opens his mouth, then closes it. This is unexpected, to say the least. Keith doesn't associate Shiro with _clubs_ and _dancing._ It sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. It sounds like fun.

“Yeah, Shiro,” Keith breathes. “Let's go dancing.”

«---»

Many things about this trip have been just like old times. They fell into their old rhythm of gentle teasing by the time they jogged back from the park that first afternoon, and talked for hours late into the night while Kosmo snoozed at Shiro's knee. They even sparred a bit in Keith's backyard the next morning for old time's sake. Shiro was eager to see Keith's favorite places, full of warmth and encouragement about everything Keith was doing with his life. It was deeply familiar.

Hitting the dance floor at Blow Pony on their second night was _not_ one of those familiar things.

It's not that he thought Shiro was against dancing or clubs. Keith has seen him let loose, play and _flirt._ Surely Shiro knew how good he looked when he moved. It's just that the man didn't indulge in those things very often, even before the mess at home began.

Was it for want of opportunity? From the way Shiro leapt at the chance to go out, to do something fun and worry-free on a Friday night, there's no way Keith would deny him that.

Keith had just the shiny booty shorts for this occasion, and a tee of fine black mesh that always draws eyes.

Shiro didn't have an outfit. He didn't need one, with the way well-fitted jeans and a white tank hugged his body in all the right places.

He did spend some extra time getting his hair just right.

They started into drinks at a casual place around the corner from the party, knocking back liquid courage and killing time so they wouldn't be facing a half-empty dance floor. Laughter came easily, paired with deep looks that made Keith's pulse race.

Keith considered his situation, deciding he was pretty well fucked.

Shiro called Jake before he was more than one drink in, which seemed like a good plan. He didn't divulge much— scratch that, he outright lied about his evening plans. Nothing about this night looked like _turning in early._

Aside from their check-in calls, it hardly took two days to feel like Jake didn't exist. Keith reveled in seeing the Shiro he remembered emerge from hiding.

«---»

They hit a wall of heat and booming synth just inside the club, let it wash over them as they squeeze their way through the crowd, Shiro hot on Keith's heels. At the bar, Keith has the pleasure and torture of feeling Shiro's breath ghost over the back of his neck as he leans close to give Keith his order over the booming electronica.

Blow Pony is a big event every month, drawing crowds of queer folk out in their skimpy bright colors and fetish wear. More than a few jock straps are on display, and at least one fuzzy unicorn onesie.

“I don't know which I like more!” Shiro laughs, elated, colored lights playing in his perfectly-fluffed hair. He's beautiful and buoyant.

Keith gulps his whiskey ginger. He only mildly chokes when Shiro grabs his hand, pulling him to the edge of the dance floor, swaying his hips to the music while he pulls Keith behind him.

They vanquish their drinks. Shiro wants to dance, and Keith isn't about to let him down.

Shiro knows how to move. Keith's not sure he's ever seen him all-in like this, certainly not in recent years. Shiro is feeling himself tonight, and it shows—from the rhythmic cant of his hips and the arch of his back to the flip of his hair. It's all Keith can do not to gape like a fool.

Keith loves dancing. He's in his element here. But earlier thoughts of showing off are fading fast as he can't take his eyes off of Shiro.

He gets lost in it, the movement and the music and Shiro's infectious smile.

The floor is filling up but there's enough space for some breathing room, until Shiro's closing that space, hand ghosting down Keith's arm as Shiro's thigh nudges against his. It's not heavy— tentative, if anything. An invitation.

Keith goes. His feet carry him until the warmth of Shiro's chest all but fills the slice of air between them. They move around each other, a hair's breadth apart, ghosting touches with coy laughter, until Keith cannot resist the pull of Shiro's thigh. Moving against him in a slow grind punches a desperate sound from Keith's throat which he hopes to heaven is drowned by the music.

Keith moves with instinct, lets the music carry them apart and together again. He catches Shiro's eyes for a moment, blown and dark, his face and neck glistening in the press of bodies.

Stepping in a turn, Shiro surprises him moving against his back, fingers ghosting over his hips. Keith wants him to grip harder but knows he won't; that'd fracture their little game, the illusion of just playing, just friends.

Keith's heart leaps as Shiro leans into his hair, nuzzling. If the press of Shiro's hips was distracting, the brush of his breath in Keith's hair obliterates all thought.

Keith drags a hand down the plane of his own chest until his fingers tangle with Shiro's grip, squeezing as he rolls his hips back.

And there's no mistaking it- Shiro moans as he tightens his grip. Keith sees stars.

«---»

Keith is right where he wants to be, if only it would last.

His suspicion was correct. As the dancing heats up, Shiro feels himself crossing that invisible line and with it reality comes pouring back in. Shiro plays the change off, unconvincingly, as he pulls back and returns to dancing on his own. Keith isn't fooled, but what can he do? Shiro is saying no.

Shiro won't be that guy. It doesn't matter why, be it misplaced loyalty or fear of pissing his boyfriend off, or just not being ready for anything new and messy in his private life.

It's fine. However much Keith _wants,_ he knows it's for the best. Keith admires Shiro for shit like this, even if he'd like to be a bit more selfish.

But Shiro won't meet his eyes now, and that's all Keith needs to know about the shitstorm that must be raging in his best friend's mind. Keith draws the line at letting Shiro tear himself apart for wanting something intimate with someone who's safe.

They have to talk about this.

“I'm gonna step outside,” Shiro calls over the din, “need to cool off.”

“I'll come with you,” Keith answers. Shiro's expression noticeably falters.

They get their hands stamped and step around the corner. Shiro leans against the brick wall and scrubs his hands over his face. He looks exhausted all of a sudden.

“Not as energetic as I used to be, I guess,” Shiro says with a pasted-on smile. “You don't have to sit out on my account.”

“Turns out I like your company,” Keith says simply, standing back to give him some space. Keith takes a breath to settle his nerves. “I'm sorry if I pushed back there. I know better, I just… got lost in it.” He bites his lip.

Shiro's expression flickers with shock before he looks down, eyes squarely on his sneakers. “Don't apologize to me, Keith. It's not your fault.”

“Well it's certainly not yours.” Keith's voice is firm. “I don't want anything to come between us, and you know I'll respect your boundaries. Just- please don't hold this against yourself? It's not worth it.”

Shiro doesn't answer right away, but when he does his voice sounds far away. “I can't believe I'd do exactly what Jake expected, after lying to him. Because I'm a coward.”

“Stop, Shiro,” Keith's fists clench at his sides. “You're not.”

Shiro huffs a miserable laugh. “Don't put me on a pedestal, Keith.”

“He's not a safe person for you! It's okay to protect yourself. It's okay to… want things.” Keith's gut churns at the words. God he wants things.

“You keep making me the good guy in all of this,” Shiro says softly. “I don't think you're seeing the full picture.”

Keith drops his shoulders, willing the clench of his fists to relax. There's no telling what Jake's like when they fight; the last thing Keith wants is to accidentally push any of those buttons. Shiro needs someone safe.

“I won't pretend to know all of it,” Keith says, his voice gentle. “And I don't need to, Shiro. You can't measure your worth on what's happening between you and Jake. People make mistakes, and- and healthy relationships survive those mistakes all the time. If there was trust there, you'd talk to the person you love and make amends. Wouldn't you?”

Shiro stays silent and very still, leaning against the wall. His eyes are downcast, expression aching. He gives the barest nod at Keith's question.

“I know you would,” Keith continues. “I know you've _tried._ It's not you, Shiro. You can't tell him the truth because he's toxic. That's not something you can fix.”

Shiro doesn't move, doesn't react, until Keith sees tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. Keith takes a step closer, resting a hand at Shiro's shoulder as tears slide silently down his face.

“The problem here isn't that you- flirted back,” Keith feels his face heat, “or that you lied. It isn't anything you did. The problem is Jake hurting you to control you. You know he always finds something to use against you, no matter what you do.”

Shiro's expression crumbles. He slumps against the wall into a crouch. Keith goes with him, kneeling by his side.

“Fuck,” Shiro chokes out a sob.

“It's gonna be okay, Shiro.” It hurts so fucking much, seeing Shiro like this. Keith moves in until he's holding him, reassured by the way Shiro clings to him. “You're not alone in this. I won't leave you alone.”

«---»

There's no joy in dancing after that.

Keith herds Shiro into the back seat of a ride share, grateful when the driver slowly turns up the music and leaves them to their thoughts. Keith doesn't let go of Shiro's hand. It's gently raining by the time they climb the porch steps in the dark.

Shiro changes into his joggers and comes back looking like a ghost. It's a kind of shock; Keith knows that's only natural, but it scares him to see it. _Not him,_ his brain screams.

_Not Shiro._

Keith goes to make up the foldout, stacking cushions to one side. Shiro walks right to Kosmo's crate, reaching for his soft fur through the wire.

“He doesn't have to sleep in there,” Keith offers as he pulls on the sheets. “It's fine with me, if you want.”

The look of surprise is the first emotion Shiro has shown since the club, his jaw working like he thinks he ought to protest. But he doesn't, reaching for the latch.

Kosmo crawls right out and into Shiro's lap, immediately and generously licking the man's face. It pulls an affectionate scoff from Shiro's throat as he strokes fingers through his fur.

Keith barely hears him murmur _thank you_ into the dog's fur.

It's all Keith can do not to cry. If Shiro didn't have his dog, what would he have? He'd be so alone in this. Kosmo whines a little and snuggles closer.

Keith steps into his PJs, coming back with a water glass for each of them. His head is cloudy, the pleasant buzz faded while the intoxication lingers. Shiro takes a sip from his glass and sets it down, still sitting with his pup on the floor.

Keith fluffs a pillow. He's not sure what to do with his hands.

“Can I- get you anything?”

Shiro looks up. “No, I… just need to sleep, I think.”

“Of course,” Keith takes a step back from the bed, gesturing at it like a fool. He feels ridiculous. “I'm not trying to hover, just wanted to make sure you're good for the night.”

Shiro doesn't say anything— doesn't look up or get up. Keith moves to go but Shiro catches his wrist.

“Stay.”

Keith freezes, staring down at the top of Shiro's head.

“I don't wanna ask too much,” Shiro's voice is just a bit unsteady. “I just don't really want to be alone right now.”

Keith lets go of a breath that's been stuck in his chest. “Of course I'll stay,” he breathes, reaching for Shiro's shoulder. “C'mon, bed's waiting.”

Feeling Shiro's weight shift the mattress beside him tangles with years of Keith's fantasies, dreams where he's lucky enough to be the one Shiro takes to bed. It's not supposed to be like this, with the threat of fresh tears in Shiro's eyes catching the street light from beyond the window.

Keith opens his arms, and at least this much is simple. Shiro goes to him, tucking his face against Keith's chest and taking a shuddering breath. Keith holds him tight around the shoulders. He feels it when Shiro starts to cry again.

“Fuck, I- how- how did I let this happen?”

Keith frowns so hard it hurts. “You didn't do anything wrong, Shiro. It can happen to anyone.”

“You saw it, like, forever ago.”

“That's different! I'm not inside. I didn't love him.” Keith hates himself for the way his voice shakes over the word, but it hurts— it hurts.

“I don't love him anymore,” Shiro bites out. He's angry, and he should be. Keith kneads his fingers into the muscles of his back through his shirt.

“Can't blame you,” Keith swallows hard. “There's no shame in believing in someone, and never imagining they could be so fucking selfish and toxic as this. In wanting him to be better. No one's ready to see that. It's not your fault that he's hurting you.”

Shiro makes a small mournful sound.

“Has he hurt you, Shiro?”

Shiro is impossibly still, while Keith's heart flashes through at least seven shades of rage and so much sorrow.

“Jake's never _hit_ me,” he says quietly. It's a denial and a confession.

“What did he… what did he do?”

“Nothing like that,” Shiro scrubs at his eyes and sighs heavily, tucking his face closer against Keith's neck. “Sometimes it's just easier to- do what he wants. So we won't fight.”

“Oh no,” Keith whispers, squeezing him. “Never okay, Shiro.”

“It's not like it's bad,” Shiro corrects. “Sometimes it's nice to just. Feel something.”

“You don't have to settle for Jake's crumbs,” Keith bites out the words. He can't help it— there's a lump in Keith's throat so big he can hardly breathe around it.

“It doesn't have to be like this. You can go and live your life, find love if you want to, feel all the things that you want to feel, Shiro—” Keith's rambling and he knows it, his mind cloudy with liquor and hurt, but he can't seem to shut up once he starts. “You deserve that— whatever you want to feel you can have that.”

Shiro squeezes Keith's ribs, and it's all Keith can do to not whimper at that aching touch.

“I think I'd forgotten what it was like,” Shiro says quietly. He sounds exhausted, his body heavy with sleep.

“What do you want to feel right now, Shiro?” _I'd do anything for you,_ Keith thinks but can't bring himself to say.

“Just this,” Shiro sighs against his collarbone, breathing deeply at his neck. “Just… you.”

Keith is thankful when Shiro drifts off to sleep, tucked under Keith's chin and breathing peacefully. He needs it. Keith has to hope that he's doing enough.

He watches the way the light from passing cars slides over the ceiling, and listens to leaves rustling in the rain.

Keith tries not to think about it. He does his best, but it's impossible as worry circles his sleepless mind like a drain.

The thought of someone hitting Shiro— Keith was sure there was almost nothing worse that he could imagine, nothing more sickening to him. He never imagined the soft resignation in the man's voice as he spoke of being touched, wanting and not wanting.

Keith finds himself incandescent with fury, helpless with it as he lies in the dark. But Shiro's right here, in his arms, at least for tonight.

Keith imagines for a moment that the boyfriend is just a figure from the distant past— a nightmare, from which Keith can simply wake him up. He imagines soothing a hand over Shiro's bare back, curled up in their bed, whispering _it's okay_ and _you're safe._

Keith would lean down and kiss Shiro's face, dry his tears, and say _baby, I'm here_ and settle him back to sleep.

It's such a simple wish. Keith doesn't want to want anything from Shiro right now. But he just knows he would give anything— everything to show him love, to bring him joy.

And that's the problem, isn't it. What if he can't do anything about it?

All at once he's overcome with grief.

It's not Keith's decision, what happens next. He can do his best to persuade Shiro, to convince him to just stay. That it's worth all the things he feels he'll lose. That it's worth starting over.

It might work. It probably won't.

And if it doesn't? Keith can't imagine how he's ever supposed to let Shiro get on that plane.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've workshopped a lot of these scenes with my good friend [Rory](https://twitter.com/ragdollrory), thank you for the alpha read 💗 and today [QuantumAbyssmal](https://twitter.com/quantumabyssmal) gave me a great beta read on the rest of this fic! I'm enormously grateful to you both.

Keith feels himself sigh and then breathe in the warmth and scent of comfort. He comes back to himself slowly like a polaroid developing.

The arm around Keith's shoulders is strong and secure. He feels safer than he's ever felt.

That's Shiro, beneath him.

Keith's breath hitches as it comes flooding back in, all the tumult of the night they had. Keith blinks his eyes open carefully, like he's afraid of what he'll find— becoming aware of the way their legs are tangled and how Keith is draped over Shiro's body like he's sheltering him.

Keith's ear presses into the meat of Shiro's shoulder, his nose nestled at the man's neck. Keith's body is betraying him, too, what with his cock taking a particular interest in the dip of Shiro's hipbone. _Fuck._

But Shiro is awake, stroking a hand up and down Keith's spine. He's holding him, not pulling away or even letting up. He's holding on.

It gives Keith courage.

“That- feels good,” he murmurs.

Keith hears the slow crack of Shiro's smile. “Does it?”

“Mm-hm,” Keith sighs.

“Then I guess I'll keep doing it,” Shiro says, his voice fond. “I didn't wake you?”

“No,” Keith moves to rub his eyes and regrets it immediately, Shiro moving to untangle their positions. Keith stretches out beside him instead and feels the loss like a weight on his chest.

Shiro yawns and stretches. “I- wow, I haven't slept that well in forever,” he sighs contentedly. Keith tries not to think about what that means.

Shiro leans up onto his elbow, looking at the time, and frowns. “I should… probably make a call.”

“What for?” Keith presses himself upright, suddenly alert.

“I'm usually up by now. I promised to call in the morning.”

“We should talk first,” Keith rushes to say.

Shiro won't meet his eyes. “What about?”

“Oh come on, Shiro. Do you- do you remember last night?”

“Of course,” he hedges. 

“Maybe we should… talk about what happens now, before you—” _before,_ Keith thinks. Before he can get under your skin again.

Shiro sets his jaw. It's a stubborn look that Keith usually loves to see in Shiro, but not about this.

“I've been thinking about what you said, Keith,” Shiro rushes to say, “about trust, and working through bad times. I think I can talk to Jake—”

“And what if you don't? What if you, just, decide that you're done?”

Shiro's mouth falls open a little. “It's… not that simple.”

“I'm not saying it's simple, Shiro, I—”

“I have classes to teach, and a car to pay off, and—”

“—I'm saying I'll stop at nothing to make this possible. Because there's nothing I wouldn't do for you.”

“Keith,” he says it like a warning.

Keith squares his jaw. He can be stubborn too. “There's nothing we can't figure out, you and me.”

“You and me…” Shiro's voice trails off. “I made a mistake, Keith. I shouldn't have gotten you involved in this.”

“Shiro!”

“It was selfish. I messed up, okay?”

The rejection burns, if that's really what it is at all. But this isn't about Keith's feelings. It's about Shiro's _life._

“You don't have to want to be with _me_ to want to get away, Shiro,” Keith says. He keeps his voice as gentle and as steady as he can manage. Shiro looks like he wants to protest, but Keith cuts him off with a groan as the thought hits him full in the face. 

“Fuck, I'm not asking you to run away with me. I'm asking you to leave him, and find out what life can be after you heal from this. Remember? Remember how you said you'd forgotten?”

Shiro's jaw hangs slack and he sputters a moment too long. “Keith, I—”

Shiro's phone starts ringing. Keith knows that tone.

“Don't answer it.”

“I have to,” Shiro hesitates as Keith reaches gently for his wrist. It's hardly a touch.

“Please don't. Not for me- for you. Please. You can call him back.”

Their eyes lock, so close now, and the weight of that look drops like a boulder into Keith's stomach. Shiro raises the phone to his ear.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Shiro says, eyes still locked on Keith's. He tries and fails to put a smile into his tone. “How's it going?”

Keith can almost make out the reply sitting this close, but it's quiet. Something about it being late already.

“Yeah, I overslept,” Shiro says. His tone is light, too light, his chrome eyes catching all the spots of color in the room as he stays focused on Keith.

Silence on the line. “Jake?”

If Keith listens hard, he can make out the words though they're quiet in that way that sets off alarm bells in Keith's hindbrain. Jake says Shiro sounds distracted. Asks something about Keith, about whether he's there.

“No,” Shiro winces as he lies but keeps holding Keith's eyes. “Just me.”

“Takashi,” Keith hears him say. It's not nice the way he says his name. It cuts. “What the fuck is going on with you?”

“I- I don't know what you mean.”

“You lied to me.”

“I wanted to talk about what happened last night, actually—”

“I fucking knew it!”

“—I went dancing with Keith, after we talked. It was a pretty short night, but… we had fun.”

Silence.

“We should go dancing sometime,” Shiro says it like he means it— like he wants to mean it. “I miss that kind of thing. Remember when we used to?”

It's easy now to hear every word that booms over the line. “Don't fucking act like nothing happened!” 

Kosmo whines in the background, padding over to Shiro's side with his ears pulled back and tense.

“Nothing happened,” Shiro says numbly.

“With that little tramp?” There's a crashing sound in the background. Keith feels his heart fly up into his throat, reaching for Shiro's knee. It's all he can do. He has to do something.

“Jake, w-what are you doing? Calm down, alright? Please.”

“Don't fucking tell me to calm down. You betrayed me and now you're lying to my face about it. You disgust me.”

Shiro's lip is shaking as he tangles his fingers with Keith's. Kosmo noses at his knee, resting his jaw on Shiro's thigh.

“W-why are you doing this? Nothing happened with Keith. I've n-ever done anything like that.”

“I can't believe you'd be so selfish. I trusted you, more than you deserve.”

Keith is shaking apart with rage. He knows it's like this. It's another thing, seeing it.

Shiro's voice is a sob. “Why don't you believe me?”

«---»

The call is devastating— Shiro's olive branch, met with a blow torch. Shiro ends the call numb, in shock. Keith wants to hold him, but knows it's his own ache that wants that; it's not what Shiro needs. Pent up, Shiro needs to burn through it somehow, running or fucking or fighting. Keith's not sure how it'd sound to offer any of those.

Keith offers coffee. 

Shiro frowns and without meeting his eyes asks for tea instead.

«---»

Shiro's eyelashes flutter closed as the afternoon sun dips low enough to reach his face through the western window. He looks relaxed, calm. Keith knows it's not without effort, rubbing his own eyes that are raw and scratchy. 

It's been a long day.

After the phone call, after the tea had cooled and the air between them felt thinner by the moment, Keith asked if they could talk about it. Pleaded, really. Reluctant at first, once Shiro started talking he didn't stop for hours.

Keith answers the door in his boxers mid-day, accepting the noodles and spring rolls he phoned in for delivery, and they don't give one fuck about crumbs in the sheets.

They form a pile of limbs on the sofa bed throughout most of it— Shiro, Keith, and one very patient dog who makes it his mission to keep Shiro's lap warm and lick his chin whenever Shiro gets worked up over it. 

There's just a lot to unpack.

What Shiro needs is a therapist, but that's the long game. Right now, Keith's giving it everything he's got.

It helps and it hurts.

They bicker through it sometimes: Shiro quick to take partial responsibility for basically everything, and Keith adamant about the differences. What's a ‘temper' that explodes, beside Shiro's response that includes anger amongst hurt.

Slowly, they pin down things that happened, from ‘teasing' insults and tense silences, to shouting and one particularly gristly threat of blackmail involving Shiro's work.

“It- it wasn't, though. He didn't go through with it.”

“That's what makes it a threat, Shiro.”

It feels like a sadistic bunny hop, two hops forward and then most of the way back. Shiro wants to hope, even now. He wants it to be okay despite everything.

Mostly, Keith validates things Shiro has been feeling, the anxiety and doubt that follows him everywhere. Keith listens, heart in his throat. And Keith shares stories, too, of things he's seen. Things Keith experienced, the anger and resentment. The feeling like you're not worth the trouble of saving.

“But then there were people that refused to give up on me. People like you, Shiro,” Keith blinks back the sting in his eyes. “You can't imagine all you've done for me.”

“C'mon, Keith,” Shiro nudges Keith's arm gently, his eyes glassy however he tries to evade.

“No, I need to say this. If it weren't for you, my life would have been a whole lot different. Don't you ever doubt what that means to me.”

Shiro opens his arms, and Keith goes to him without question. He cries on Shiro's shoulder until he's completely spent.

«---»

Keith fires off a text to Lance as the sun falls low.

hey I need to borrow your car

Ahem, EXCUSE me!! Is that how your mama taught you to ask nicely?

never knew my mom

but my pa taught me to be honest and keep my nose clean

Keith knows he's being a little shit, but with Lance he can't help himself.

Oh shit, man… sorry

Is that why you're a piss-ant all the time?

gee thanks

And why, pray tell, do you suddenly need to borrow my ride?

Coupe McClain is VIP, you know ✨

Keith narrowly avoids facepalming at how extra this guy is.

best friend visiting

want to take him to tabor

Bus goes to Mount Tabor 🤔

lance

you owe me

Uh, I don't think so?

oh wait, was that your phone on the reception desk, unlocked with anime tits on the home screen?

cuz I could've sworn it was lost & found

Hey!! I was hacked!!

Ugh- FINE

Don't sully her, Mullet

She's a virgin 😉

i'm not responding to that

Keys are under the mat, and you owe me an extra large Quadraro pizza from that fancy place by you, what's it called?

Renata, on 7th!

Hold the Pecorino!!

Keith shakes his head, mumbling a curse, and agrees to Lance's terms— because Shiro is definitely worth a stupid bougie pizza to shut him up.

fine 🔪

«---»

Shiro's face lights up when Keith suggests Italian for dinner, and a bit more sightseeing. It's no secret that Shiro hates wasting the day.

Eager now, Shiro washes up and manages to not look like he's been pulling his hair out and rubbing at his eyes all day.

Keith does not pull this off quite so well, he's sure of it, and the misty air isn't helping, leaving his hair even more unruly than usual. But Keith's nerves settle as they eat gnocchi and quietly comment on the strangers they see, making up stupid little stories about their lives under their breath.

Shiro sips a bellini and looks infuriatingly good doing it, his bangs dangling long and hapless in his smokey eyes. He's wearing a really nice sweater. He looks like a fucking Rolex model, minus the ten thousand dollar watch. 

Maybe Shiro always looks like a model, but more so now when his eyes keep forgetting to smile.

They walk half a mile further to Lance's place for the car he was promised. Keith leaves the pizza on Lance's doormat and spitefully imagines him stepping on it. Not that he'd ever admit to the smile that puts on his face.

Once they're on the road, Keith takes the long way, criss-crossing the river an unnecessary number of times just to hit all of his favorite bridges. Maybe he's showing off a little bit. He wants Shiro to love it here.

He wants Shiro to stay.

“Can we drive to the top of some mountain,” Shiro asks, “sit out on the hood for old time's sake?” He sighs the words with a nostalgic smile.

Keith crinkles his nose a little, looking at how the clouds sit heavy and dark in the eastern sky. “I was thinking something closer. It's gonna rain tonight for sure.”

“I always liked rain. It's weird living in a desert, when you think about it,” Shiro muses. “We can handle a little rain, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Keith's eyes flicker to Shiro with a defiant grin. “I've got a spot in mind.”

They drive out through neighborhoods, passing coffee shops and deep porches and sweetly manicured yards. They park on the street at the foot of Mount Tabor and Keith leads the way up a winding path through trees to the top of the bluff, looking down over the city and the reservoir below. From here the sky is a burst of color, all orchid pink shot through with peach and gold.

“I can see why you like it here,” Shiro whistles.

“What's not to like? This one's a volcano, you know. Extinct, but still,” Keith shrugs.

“Really?” Shiro sounds excited, bless his nerd heart. It makes Keith laugh.

“Would I lie to you?” Keith smirks.

“Guess not.”

Shiro's been checking his phone off and on since dinner, mostly scrolling through what look to be long messages and tapping out two or three word replies. Keith hears the phone in Shiro's jacket pocket vibrate for the third time in as many minutes. Shiro quietly slips it out of his pocket and sets do not disturb.

“Is that him?” Keith asks.

Shiro frowns. “You know it is.” He looks at the sky and not at Keith. “I told him I'm not ready to talk after… what he said.”

“And what he did,” Keith adds.

Shiro's still not looking at Keith. “Jake knows he screwed up. He's actually really sorry. Like, I've never seen him like this.”

“He apologizes every time,” Keith growls. “But he doesn't change. Next time he feels the urge, he'll do it again. It'll keep getting worse.”

Shiro's words are so quiet they're almost lost on the breeze. “I think he really means it this time.”

“Shiro!” Keith groans, his voice shaking. Keith paces— he just needs to move. When he looks back at Shiro his voice rings hollow. “You're going back to him,” Keith says. “Aren't you.”

“What else am I gonna do, Keith?”

“Stay.”

Shiro shakes his head like it's crazy. “You know I can't.”

“No! You can. It'll be hard, I won't lie, but you are _worth it,_ Shiro. Your life is wor—”

“Keith, stop,” Shiro's voice booms. It feels so final and Keith's heart sinks with it. Keith freezes and feels his shoulders droop.

“I'm giving Jake one more chance,” Shiro says. “If he doesn't change this time, I will leave him.”

Keith's eyes sting. “And there's nothing I can do,” he asks, “to change your mind?”

“I made up my mind,” Shiro says quietly as Keith's face crumples. Shiro turns toward the view, heaving a sigh. “I never meant for you to get hurt, Keith. You shouldn't have to deal with this. With— me.”

“Never say that, Shiro. Shit, I never wanted to push you, I'm just- I wish I could show you what I see," Keith kicks gravel underfoot in his frustration. "I can't pretend this is all just a normal fight, that what he's doing is just a bump in the road. It's not."

Shiro doesn't change his stance, facing the fading sunset, but he hangs his head in defeat and it's the last thing Keith wants to see.

“Hey,” Keith's hand settles gently on Shiro's shoulder. "You know I'm here for you,” Keith chokes out the words, “no matter what.”

“I know,” Shiro's smile over his shoulder is weak and strained. “I wish I was strong enough to leave you out of it. To not make you worry. But I- just can't imagine what I'd do without you.”

“Don't imagine it,” Keith says as he leans his forehead against the back of Shiro's shoulder, snaking his arms around Shiro's waist tentatively from behind.

A thousand things rush through Keith's mind as he holds on, reaching desperately for the words to say just how far he'll go for Shiro, just how deep in it he'll stay.

It feels like Shiro is going to say something else. But whatever it may be, he exhales the thought into the night air instead, letting it go.

«---»

Cleaning up for bed, Keith towels some of the rain out of his hair. Combing his fingers through it doesn't help much. He finds Shiro in the half dark of the kitchen and offers him a towel, too. Shiro dries his face, mussing his bangs. He's watching Keith closely from an arm's length away.

“Not sleepy?” Keith wonders aloud.

Shiro's only response is a noncommittal hum.

Keith's not sure why he does it. He takes a step and reaches for Shiro's bangs, smoothing the wet and tangled strands.

“That bad, huh?” Shiro tries to tease.

“No,” Keith says, honest. “I told you I like it.”

Shiro smiles, the first genuine spark of joy since the early morning. “That's right. Like a prince,” he grins wolfishly.

Keith pouts, then almost loses his nerve as Shiro's eyes pass over his lips for a long moment.

“I, uh,” Shiro starts, hesitating. “Imagine you'll want to sleep in your own bed, then.” It takes a moment for Keith to place the tone— something like regret.

“Not really, no,” Keith mutters. “Would it… help you sleep, if I stay?”

Keith itches with it, how much he feels Shiro wanting to kiss him. But he doesn't, not even as he pulls Keith toward the bed with him again, tucks Keith close against his warm body, wrapped in blankets to ward off the cooler night.

It's different, doing this without the jagged highs and lows of the first night, the cover it provided. 

_Shiro needed him._

This feels like something else, more transparent. An admission. Or maybe it's just that the tables have turned— that this time, Shiro is holding _him._

Shiro's voice is as quiet as he can manage, but it pierces the silence still.

“Is- this okay, Keith?”

He must take too long to answer, as Shiro shifts back enough to peer down at Keith's face in the near-dark.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, Shiro,” Keith murmurs, pulling in close to his chest again where he doesn't have to meet Shiro's eyes.

Shiro knows Keith too well. He'll see everything, if he lets him.

Keith is not supposed to want this, he scolds himself, and clings tighter. _Just let me have this._

«---»

All settled in and ready to fly!

Keith looks at the message with one eye half-open before rolling back over in bed and burying his face in the sheets. It's only mid-morning but he's so done with this day. He hurts everywhere.

The phone vibrates against the sheets a couple more times. Keith tells himself he's not gonna look, not for a minute or ten minutes or not until Shiro's plane is already in the air, because what difference does it make? He's already gone.

It takes maybe a full minute for Keith to cave and unlock his screen.

I can't thank you enough, Keith.

I know you're frustrated with things and, um, with me. I can't blame you for that.

But I know you still have my back. Through all of this, even if I don't deserve it, and, well.

shiro

That means more to me than you know.

just be safe

i'll be here

when you need me

«---»

Being a good boy for me today.

Keith chokes on his breakfast sandwich, his face already burning before he sees that there's a picture with Shiro's latest text.

_Oh._

well

of course he's being good

you have treats

Don't tell me that's all it takes… 😏

Keith decides it's too fucking early for whatever this is.

«---»

Jake agreed to talk to someone.

About his anger.

…

good

Things are going really well Keith, since I've been back. We've worked through a lot of issues. The things you said, your support, it really helped.

I just don't want you to worry.

ok

Keith?

…

Tell me the truth.

I know you can handle yourself

just

what if you didn't have to?

«---»

Keith decides to get himself a therapist, once a week to start. Maybe he can learn from his own advice? It may not be his abusive relationship, but Shiro has his heart. What he's suffering tends to seep through and stain.

It turns out Lance knows someone who is taking new patients. He failed to mention it was his big sister he was talking about, but Veronica makes a casual swipe at her brother in the first 15 seconds of meeting and Keith decides he approves of her on principle.

Keith is still nervous. He hates talking about his personal shit, but at least he's done this before— Uncle Kolivan insisted, way back in the day. Keith kind of knows what to expect. It's only been a month and he knows it takes time.

They talk about the heap of things Keith hasn't been dealing with. The unfulfilling hookups, and the intimacy he wants and then- doesn't. Fearing for Shiro, feeling brittle and powerless and _furious_ half the time. Shame for feelings that keep growing louder, when that's not what Shiro needs.

“You clearly care about your friend a whole lot,” she says, studying him closely.

“I do,” Keith agrees solemnly.

“And yet you feel bad about the feelings you have for him,” she observes. “Is that true?”

“I- guess so. I just don't want him to get hurt. I want him to know he can come to me, that- I'm safe. That it's not about what I want.”

“Ah,” she agrees with a fond smile. “Are you afraid you are taking advantage of Shiro?”

“I would never,” Keith replies flatly. “It's more like a feeling, like… maybe he'd let me help if it wouldn't get- complicated.”

“Do you have expectations of a _future_ relationship?”

“No! No, Jesus, Shiro doesn't owe me anything.”

“Would it change your investment in him in any way, if he weren't interested, or wasn't able to reciprocate because he needs time?”

“Of course not,” Keith mutters. “I'm not helping him for me. I want him to be okay.”

Veronica looks at him in silence, calm and composed.

“I want to reflect something back to you, Keith,” she says, “just some of the things I'm hearing you say. You are putting Shiro's needs first. You support him unconditionally, not out of expectation. You are aware of your romantic feelings and how they could impact him, and you're taking steps to monitor and be responsible for your actions as best you know how,” she glances up from her notepad. “Did I miss anything?”

Keith lets a sigh burst from his chest.

“I guess not.”

«---»

Am I so awful for wanting to have fun?

To have friends?

no never

tell me

Last night was Allura's birthday, we took her out and, you know, it went late.

Jake knew where I was going, that it would be a late night. I mean, I figured it'd piss him off even when he didn't put up a fight, but I went anyway. I wanted a little joy.

And like, things have been better? For a while now. Sue me for hoping.

He was waiting up for me at like 1AM, just stewing mad!

fuck what did he do

Nothing, actually. He didn't even yell, he just said I must not care about him at all.

that's not nothing, how dare he say that to you

And I was so mad and just

hurt. I slept on the couch.

He didn't talk to me when he left for work this morning.

that's totally unreasonable

you know it is

It is, isn't it?

That's what I'm feeling, definitely.

But then I keep feeling crazy.

you're not

not at all

I honestly hate him right now.

We can be so good sometimes, and then there's this side of him that I can't stand. It's vicious.

And I wonder suddenly how I could ever let myself be with someone like that.

«---»

Keith sticks with the therapy, more grateful for it every week. Things are going dark again between Shiro and Jake. Keith is back to pleading with him to leave, or to see a therapist himself— since Jake has repeatedly gone back on going with him. There's always some excuse.

There are bright spots in Keith's life, too, even with the onslaught of Northwest rain. He makes more friends at work, Acxa who's in clinical care, and Kinkade who coordinates field education.

Keith continued down the path of giving up coffee, now that it always leaves a bad taste in his mouth, but makes friends with the nutty couple who operate the local kombucha tap & tea house. Ezor and Zethrid are a lot to take in at first, and the whole business might be a front for lord-knows-what, but Keith finds that he feels at home there and their black tea blends are the best in town.

Leaving a productive home visit in good spirits, Keith walks to the bus that'll take him back downtown for the afternoon. He fishes his phone out of his pocket.

Keith's breath catches in his throat.

shiro

blue ribbon

11/10

:D

Really?

he's gorgeous

the light, it's just

you're an artist shiro

Wow okay, now I'm blushing. So much.

Even Kosmo is laughing at me!

I do think this is my favorite. I could almost feel that this one was going to be perfect.

it is

this belongs in an art show

Stahp!

do they still do those community shows, down at the center?

Hm.

I'm not sure, haven't been over there in a long time. Too long.

You really think they'd be interested?

know so

and you always loved those art shows

wouldn't you like to go again?

…

Maybe I'll stop by.

«---»

“Shiro?”

“S-sorry Keith,” Shiro's voice rasps over the line as Keith's eyes strain for the time in the dark. 3 AM. “I woke you up—”

“Are you okay?”

“I'm safe. We didn't fight. I'm just- upset.”

Keith hisses out an anxious sigh. “Okay, of course. You can talk to me.”

“Maybe I just wish I had. Fought, I mean. I don't want him near me. I feel- dirty.”

Keith's chest tightens in a spasm. “No no, it's not your fault, you—”

“Like there's something just wrong with me,” Shiro continues, then hesitates like he hears something from the other room. It winds the pressure in Keith's chest tighter until it strains.

Shiro adjusts the phone so he's speaking very low. “I should go.”

“Shiro, please don't stay there—”

“Just wanted to hear your voice.”

«---»

please

you could just leave

And just live on someone's couch?

I'd be a burden.

come stay with me

have a whole room for you

Keith, it's too much.

I have a job here. It's not easy to get a faculty position just on a whim!

but have you tried?

I can't just flit across the country with no plan.

you don't need a plan

it doesn't matter

you have a home here

I'd be giving up everything. :(

but there's so much to gain

«---»

Keith sees a notification, a new photo text from Shiro. He opens it for dog pictures, unprepared for what he sees.

It's a big shard of porcelain in Shiro's hand, white and blue with a little green. Keith feels his heart sink as he recognizes the brushwork, hydrangeas on a tea-leaf jar. It was Shiro's grandfather's.

I hate him.

So much.

oh no no

How could he? He knew what this was.

shiro please

go to lluras

or the holts

He's never done this before.

not true!

That wasn't like this, he can't replace this. This was deliberate.

it was all deliberate

…

please don't be at home right now

Jake's not here anyway.

I stayed late at work and didn't tell him first. Came home to this and he's gone in the car.

Keith is already calling, waiting through three long rings before Shiro finally answers.

“Keith, I…” he hesitates.

“Allura will pick you up. Hunk. Sam. Anyone,” Keith rushes to say. “We all love you. We can't stand to see you in danger.”

“I'm not made of glass,” Shiro grits out.

“No, you're made of flesh and blood, and he- he's off the rails, Shiro. Tell me you see that? It's intimidation. It's violence. He wants you to be afraid to cross him.”

“So I should just… leave.” Shiro's tone is flat, incredulous. Numb.

“Yes! Please!” Keith heaves a breath. His chest is tight and his limbs itch to move, shot through with adrenaline. “Please, I'll call someone for you, anyone, I just- please leave the house before he has time to come back.”

Shiro is silent.

“Holts are the closest,” Keith says.

“Out of town,” Shiro says quietly.

“I'll call Allura, would take her 10 minutes tops.”

Shiro makes a sound, like a moan but darker. Keith hears a clacking of pottery pieces. “I- I'll pack.”

Keith is already texting Allura as he protests, lurching to his feet, “No packing, Shiro… can you go next door? Who do you know on your block that would be home?”

The message is read almost instantly. She writes back a quick OMW. Keith just says hurry.

“And involve someone else? I'm already worried about Allura getting involved.”

“Even more reason to not be where Jake could see you leaving,” Keith slams through the words, breathless with fear. “Even more reason to get you and Kosmo somewhere else, right away. Don't wait.”

“Fuck.”

Shiro's moving. Keith hears the clasp on the leash. “If he hurt him, I'd…” he doesn't need to say it, Keith knows. It just sunk in, _really_ sunk in. What Jake could be capable of. Who else could be at risk.

If he won't leave for his own sake, he'll leave for someone he loves.

“She's coming right now,” Keith says quickly. “8 minutes. I just need to redirect her wherever you say. For now just move, there's time.”

“Cafe,” Shiro says. His voice is breathy with adrenaline, too. “Black Crown, two blocks.”

“Okay,” Keith replies, feeling a giddy mix of danger and relief. “Okay, Shiro. She's got the place. Keep walking. Take a deep breath. We're gonna take care of this.”

“Shit—”

“Shiro?” Keith lurches forward, gripping the back of the couch while he holds his phone out in the other hand. “Shiro! Talk to me,” he begs.

_No._

NO.

No no no.

Keith hears shouting. The line goes dead, and Keith screams in frustration as he calls Shiro again. No answer. Keith calls Allura— he's frantic and he knows it.

“Something's happened,” Keith howls, “Shiro hung up, 'Llura please hurry! Fuck,” he heaves a breath.

“Keith, listen to me. I've got this,” Allura says with a commanding calm. “I'm almost there.”

“I'm not hanging up,” Keith says, his fingers knotted in his hair.

“You're on speaker. Breathe for me,” she says. Keith obeys her.

“I see him. He's alright. Stay on the line,” she pauses. Keith hears the engine running as she opens the door.

“Shiro,” Allura calls, calm and clear, like she's calling an unruly class to order without losing her temper. She's brilliant, she's amazing. Keith can't make out what's happening and he's losing his mind.

“Time to go,” she says firmly. “Now.”

The background noise sucks. Keith thinks he hears cursing, but then it's over. Car doors closing, shutting everything else out, followed by an anxious bark. _Fucking fuck,_ Keith is crying. “Shiro?”

“Here, Keith,” Shiro's voice is strained. “Allura, I'm sorry— I never meant to—”

“Never mind all that,” she says, her voice steadier than any of theirs. “I know you'd do the same for me.”

«---»

“Keith?” Shiro's voice is small, hesitant.

“I'm here,” Keith swallows.

“Am I waking you?”

“No, I'm not sleeping,” Keith says softly, willing his death grip on the phone to relax.

“Me either,” Shiro answers. The silence stretches. “I can't believe what I put you through today. After everything you've done for me—”

“Shiro, no—”

“Please. Let me say this?”

The words lodge in Keith's throat. “What is it?”

“You didn't have to do what you did,” Shiro starts, his voice brittle. “I've been so stubborn. Hell, I don't even know how to thank you. I don't know if I can. But you stuck by me, through everything.”

“Of course.” Keith hears how small his voice sounds.

“How many times are you gonna have to save me, before all this is over?”

“As many times as it takes.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where do we go from here? This is easier to answer in fic than in life, and the fic was quite hard enough. To the people reading and relating to the struggles in this story, whether your own or those faced by someone you love, I hope I managed to do justice to that experience in some small way.
> 
> I offer happy endings knowing it's not simple, nor is it ever finished. But one foot in front of the other, it can be enough.
> 
> Thanks again to [QuantumAbyssmal](https://twitter.com/quantumabyssmal) for her beta read, and to my dear friend [Rory](https://twitter.com/ragdollrory) who I forced to talk through all these scenes with me.
> 
> Sheith community, please know that I love you all. This ode to friendship is for you. 💗

Shiro has a new phone number, and a new address— sort of. Allura brought him home to her couch overnight, long enough for Hunk to clean up his spare room by morning for Shiro and Kosmo to share. Romelle had a good mattress in storage. Hunk said without question that Shiro could stay indefinitely.

Just a mattress on the floor, hot meals and a few rides in to work, and Shiro thinks it's all too much fuss over him. Everyone thinks they're hardly doing enough.

One blessing of isolation: Jake doesn't know where any of Shiro's old friends live, or none besides the Holts. Colleen apparently sent him packing when he tried to come around. Pidge had to have gotten it from somewhere.

Reluctantly, Shiro lets his department chair know that he's going to need some time away. A few days of going to campus and watching his back has Shiro jumping from the slightest surprise. It's ugly and tense and he knows it's too much when he starts to dread going to work.

From Shiro's retelling, his boss sounded confused at first, until she didn't— and that was worse. Shiro tried keeping it clinical: that he'd reported him to campus safety, that they have his photograph. That coming to campus might be an unnecessary risk for him until this blows over.

She was alarmed, overwhelmed, full of unhelpful suggestions all while meaning well. 

She also asked how long he'd be away. It took the wind right out of his sails.

He couldn't answer that.

“There's no end date,” Shiro mutters to Keith that night on the phone. “I can't hide forever. They'll have to replace me. Fuck, I hate running— why am I the one who has to give everything up?”

Keith hugs a pillow to his chest, curled up on his couch. He's watching the rain slide down the glass patio door. “It's not fair. But you can do this.”

Shiro is quiet.

“Shiro, I can hear you thinking from a thousand miles away. Tell me?”

“I overreacted. I just feel it.”

“You didn't, though,” Keith says softly, his heart full. “Do you think that's really true?”

His reply is quiet, almost petulant. “Maybe.”

Keith braces himself. “It's normal to feel conflicted. What brought this on?”

“Probably… campus security today,” Shiro groans, muffled like he's covering his face. “Of course they asked me if there was a restraining order, I said there was nothing like that. They asked about a pattern of violence, and I just—”

“—There was, though. Destruction of property, intimidation, neglect, attempted blackmail,” Keith rattles them off.

“He never _hit_ anyone. He never raised a finger towards me, or my dog. Jake has a temper, but I really embarrassed him getting you guys involved. Of course he was mad.”

“His behavior has been aggressive towards you for a long time,” Keith says, his patience breaking down as his heart races. “His actions were threatening. You were afraid of him— _I was afraid of him._ Shiro, I've never been so scared in my goddamn life!”

“Hey,” Shiro murmurs, soothing. Keith's face heats; Shiro shouldn't be the one soothing _him_ right now.

“I'm sorry,” Keith sighs, biting his lip to settle himself down. “I just, I know I'd never forgive myself,” he swallows, “if anything happened to you.”

«---»

Shiro sleeps a lot. He keeps making himself small, trying not to be a burden and convinced that he is no matter what anyone says. 

Hunk doesn't want to talk behind Shiro's back, but he asks Keith's opinion sometimes when he doesn't know what else to do.

I just wanna help, man! I feel so useless sometimes.

If you were here, I'm sure you'd know what to do for him.

you're doing great, hunk

if there's anyone I trust to help shiro when I can't, it's you

So…

Why can't you?

Come here, I mean.

Keith blinks at the screen.

what so you have another person on your couch?

Why is everyone so goddamn worried about being the guy on the couch? It's a good couch!

I would come, I just

how would that help shiro

…

I don't know, Keith, he's different with you. He just trusts you. He can fall apart and be a mess around you.

I think he's trying to keep it all in with us.

shit

okay I'll talk to my job

I mean, don't take my word for it, maybe ask Shiro?

you know he'll say he doesn't need anything special

wish he wanted to come here

What if he wants to and he just won't let himself?

what?

no I won't push

I think I've pushed enough

«---»

“I don't want anyone else to go over there on my behalf, Keith.”

“We can forget the stuff, or let someone go get whatever you need. Besides,” Keith scratches his fingernails through the hair at the base of his neck, “Uncle Kolivan isn't somebody I'd worry about. Did I ever tell you how he and Antok first met?”

Shiro is quiet for a moment. “I don't want to know, do I?”

“Guess not,” Keith snarks back. He knows Shiro was trying to make a joke, even if it didn't land.

Keith sips his tea.

“Would it help if I came out there? To help? You know I would.”

“No, absolutely not,” Shiro groans. Keith bites his lip, wishing he hadn't asked. At least he could have claimed it was a surprise. “You have a life. I'll sort mine out, it'll just take time.”

“I know you will,” Keith sighs. “If I can't be there to help, let me help with this.”

“My whole life is in that house. What, am I supposed to just… make a list?”

Keith shrugs to himself. That's what he'd do, but it's not him. Keith has never had much. “It doesn't matter how much it is, though. I won't be that hard to pull off.”

Shiro groans sullenly and thinks for a minute. “I have a lot of books. Clothes that I like. Most of that can be replaced.”

“So you want the books, and the clothes. Easy.” Keith _is_ making a list.

“They're just things, Keith,” Shiro says, unconvincingly. Then he hums to himself. “The really nice pruning shears are mine,” he relents. Keith smiles triumphantly as he writes it down.

“My good razor, and meditation chime. Baba's throw blanket. Already have my jiji's jar.”

“Wait,” Keith sits up straighter, “the broken one- you brought that? How?”

“I- kinda wasn't thinking clearly?” Shiro laughs and it sounds weak and miles away. “I was putting the pieces in a bag to save, and then everything happened and I left with Kosmo? It's a blur. I was already around the corner before I even noticed I was carrying the bag.”

Keith squirms a little. He didn't mean to bring up that afternoon, but he couldn't help the question bubbling up.

“I was thinking I could repair it,” Shiro sounds embarrassed. “Probably sounds silly.”

“No! Not at all, I just… I was surprised. I'm glad you kept it," he swallows around the heavy feeling in his chest. "Anything else Kolivan should pick up? Doesn't all have to be priceless pottery.”

Once they have a list, Keith sends it to his adoptive family. Antok confirms that he and his husband will make the trip into the city that weekend and see that it gets done.

Uncle Kolivan is a teddy bear, really— but Jake doesn't know that.

«---»

“What am I doing with my life?”

“Taking time for yourself,” Keith replies evenly. “Healing.”

“Self-pitying,” Shiro grits out.

“Do you really think it's pity?” Keith asks, his voice neutral and open. “I'm asking honestly. Because I feel like it's the opposite.”

“How so?” Shiro grumbles. It's petulant and sounds foreign in his voice.

“I think you don't want to let yourself feel what you've been through. And I don't blame you, because it fucking hurts. But it might help to call it what it is.”

Shiro seems stunned. There's no movement or even breath— just silence. Maybe Keith said too much.

“Shiro?” he asks carefully.

The words are so soft that Keith hardly hears them.

“You're right.”

“I am?” Keith asks, startled.

“It's hard. I… don't really know my old friends here? And I sound so bloody ungrateful—”

“Shiro, please. You can tell me. Whatever it is. Can't you?”

“Yes,” Shiro's voice is a bit too high. “I can tell you.”

“I'm listening.”

Shiro sighs. “I can just- see it in their eyes. There are good days, but when it's bad, they,” Shiro groans in frustration. “They don't know what to say. They're afraid to ask about it. And I don't really want them to, if I'm honest. I don't want to heap any more on them. It's just- they don't understand. They _can't.”_

Keith exhales. “Yeah, I get that. And they do want to help. But you're not sure you want to let them.”

Shiro huffs a miserable laugh. “It's almost like you know me,” he says, voice breaking off almost as if he suddenly hears himself. “I need someone who knows me. If it could be that simple.”

“It can be,” Keith says. Shiro keeps talking like he doesn't hear the words.

“But I can't do that.”

“Shiro?” Keith hears him hum in response. “I want you to come and live with me—”

“Keith,” Shiro's voice is gently chiding.

“—I want that more than anything. I think it'd be good for you. You can start something new.”

“Keith, I can't,” Shiro groans. “I'm a wreck right now. You deserve better.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Keith scowls at his bedroom wall, trying to parse Shiro's words. “You're my best friend. You're also the best person I've ever known and I trust you with my life, so- what are you getting at about what I deserve?”

“I can't be with you right now,” Shiro's voice hitches. “I would blow it so badly. You're too important to me, Keith, I— just need some time.”

Keith hauls himself out of a befuddled silence. “Shiro, I- what? No, wait,” Keith shakes himself. “Can I get one thing straight with you?”

Shiro makes a mournful sound.

“I love you.”

Keith hears him sigh. He'd kill to know what it means, but he keeps going.

“I love you, Shiro. So much. I won't even try to deny that. But this isn't about my feelings, this isn't about something between us. I'm not saying fly up here and be my _boyfriend._ And, fuck, that's on me- I am so sorry if you thought for one moment I expected something from you—”

“No, Keith,” Shiro's voice is quiet, “you never expected. I- I know you. You never push me. There was a time I imagined maybe you would-” Shiro muffles his words behind a hand and Keith is about to burn up on the spot. “Of course you didn't. I know you better now.”

Shiro clears his throat. “I was sure I'd missed my chance. The only thing worse would be wrecking my chance,” he sniffs. “So I'll say it again: I'm just a mess right now. I can't be who I want to be in your life. But that doesn't mean I don't want to be that… someday, if you'll have me.”

Keith's eyes itch with fresh tears as he swipes them away.

“Of course, Shiro. But don't promise me, okay? You don't owe me anything. First just… come stay. Come and be safe and free and heal.”

“Okay,” Shiro whispers.

“Just please— huh, okay?!”

“Yes,” Shiro breathes, and Keith thrills at the sound of hope in his voice. “I don't know how yet, but okay.”

«---»

Keith wakes up to Kosmo pictures the next morning and the morning after, filling the space when they don't really know how to talk about what passed between them. Shiro said yes to moving— agreed that he should, that he wants to. That he isn't sure how.

The whole thing feels fragile in the morning light. Keith doesn't want to shatter it. So he replies about dog pictures instead, because it's safe. In the latest picture, Keith recognizes the little row of tables outside a popular cafe near campus where Kosmo has his nose buried in a disposable cup.

we've upgraded to dog lattes now?

It's a Puppuccino, first of all.

And why not?

pls don't call it that ugh

didn't know you were around campus much anymore

I haven't been. I needed to talk to the department real quick.

You know, turn in my keys.

Keith's heart kicks up in his chest. _It's real, it's happening._ He's tying up loose ends, like the end is in sight. Keith aches to ask about that, if only he could find the words— but Shiro is quick with another question.

Hey, do you work late tomorrow?

yep marathon thursdays

why

No reason, I just wanted to talk when you get home.

everything okay? 

I can talk right now

or tonight?

No no! I just wanted to know about tomorrow.

Just to catch up, you know.

…

shiro we talk like every day

you're being weird rn

Okay it is weird, you caught me. It's just

It's a surprise?

a surprise

Yeah, and I wanted to tell you tomorrow. If it all goes to plan.

You'll like it. I hope.

Argh just pretend I didn't say anything and forget all about it.

have you met me

Yes and you're a force of nature, but I'm gonna need you to trust me on this. 😊

of course shiro

you know I trust you

«---»

Keith never liked surprises much, but Shiro said he would like it and asked for his trust, and like hell would he question that. Damn it. So trust he did. Or maybe he just put it out of his mind by necessity, wading into hours of back-to-back appointments. Thursdays were routinely his longest day of the week.

He texts Shiro on his bathroom break, and again as he boards his bus in the dark. It's a relentless and cold November rain. Keith never manages to keep his unruly hair beneath his rain jacket, shaking droplets from where they cling icily to the loose strands around his face.

There's something quietly needling him for most of the ride home. It takes Keith a while to sift through the day and land on what is making him feel off. He checks the time and his notifications for the fiftieth time, and it comes to him as the bus crests the hill just before his neighborhood stop comes into view— the the first message he sent Shiro is still unread. And maybe that's fine, except that was three hours ago and it's just not like Shiro at all.

Keith hops off the bus into the night, ready to trudge the last three blocks home in what is quickly becoming a downpour. He fishes his phone from his damp jeans pocket and rings Shiro's number, cradling the phone close under his hood.

It goes straight to voicemail.

Anxiety spikes automatically. It's too soon, it's too like those excruciating minutes when Shiro's phone lay cracked on the pavement and Keith tried and tried but he couldn't reach him, he couldn't do anything—

Keith calls again, only to reach the same recording of Shiro's calm baritone voice. It has the opposite effect, stoking his fear. Keith calls Hunk before he can think better of it.

“Hunk, I can't reach Shiro,” Keith says quickly in place of a hello, “is he home?”

“Hey, Keith, my man,” Hunk's voice wafts over the line with unreal cheerfulness that sounds vaguely pained. “It's Keith, everybody,” Hunk announces to the room. “Llura and Romelle say hi,” Hunk prattles on.

“Hunk,” Keith growls, “I'm worried about Shiro. Just tell me if he's home?”

“Home, well, hm,” Hunk babbles. Keith wants to stab his eyes out. “That depends on what you— Allura!” Hunk exclaims out of nowhere. “Allura _very_ much wants to talk to you, Keith.”

“Fine, I just—”

“—Keith,” she sighs into the phone, fondly exasperated. “You were trying to reach Shiro?"

“What the fuck is this,” Keith seethes. “Why is Shiro's phone off?”

“Now calm down,” Allura chides. “I'm certain Shiro didn't mean to worry you in the slightest. In fact, I'm sure that he is almost home now,” she muffles the receiver to say something Keith can't hear. “Really, Keith. I think there's nothing to worry about.”

“But—” Keith freezes at the sound of Shiro's text chime in his ear and pries the phone away from his face to take a look. The screen is bleary and wet, but Keith is almost home, almost to his porch where he can take shelter to properly deal with whatever the fuck this is. 

Hey!

Sorry I missed your call!

“That's Shiro, I'll call you back,” Keith grumbles.

“Just text me later,” Allura replies mildly.

Keith wipes his phone screen on the thigh of his jeans but it's hopeless. The screen is so wet he hardly manages to select Shiro's contact to start the call. At least he picks up right away.

“Shiro?”

“Keith,” Shiro smiles but he sounds nervous. He also sounds like he's in a car. “Hey, how's it going?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm great. Wh- what's wrong?”

“No games, please,” Keith's voice shakes a little, though he tries to sound calm but firm. He shoves his way through his front door and kicks the door shut. “I know something's going on and- I don't know, I really hate surprises.”

“Whoa, okay—”

“Everyone's acting weird,” Keith swallows, trying to get a grip on himself as he stands in the hallway dripping on the rug. “And your phone was off? I just- I got worried.”

“I, uh, yeah— airplane mode.” A car door, the sound of shuffling and a soft puppy yip.

“What- why?”

“Keith, hey. Let's back up a step, alright? I'm so sorry I worried you. That absolutely wasn't what I wanted. Quite the opposite, in fact. But, well, you know plans, right?” The breathy sound he makes is hardly a laugh. “It's just… Do you think we can talk about it in just a minute? I promise I'll explain everything.”

“How—”

The doorbell rings.

Keith freezes for a beat before he whirls on the door. He yanks it open only to find Shiro standing there damply in the tawny porch light, his pale bangs dripping water into his eyes. He's practically empty-handed, with just a light backpack, puppy crate in one hand and leash in the other.

Keith's jaw hangs slack. “You…”

“Yeah,” Shiro cringes, “and before you say this is the stupidest thing I've ever done, believe me. I know.”

Kosmo whimpers dolefully, tail between his legs. Though possibly not as far as Shiro's.

Keith shakes his head. “No,” he says simply, stepping over the threshold and into Shiro's space to wrap him in a hug. “This is perfect.”

That pulls a startled laugh from Shiro's throat as he stands there with his hands and tongue tied. “Now I'm confused.”

“Perfect,” Keith says, giving him one last squeeze before releasing Shiro to welcome him inside. “I said it's perfect.”

«---»

Home from work in the mid-afternoon, Keith toes off his shoes at the door. He doesn't wear shoes in the house anymore, now that it's Shiro's house, too.

_Their house._

It's a clear and cold February day, rare enough in the Northwest that even soft winter sunlight manages to flood the kitchen with warmth. Kosmo raises his head from where he's napping in a sunspot by the back door. He shakes his head and shoulders with a huff before settling back down to sleep.

Shiro sits at the table with his back turned, effortlessly handsome in his white henley and blue jeans.

“Keith, you're home,” Shiro calls back with a smile in his voice.

"How'd the interview go?" Keith had wanted to ask about it for hours, but knew it was the kind of thing Shiro would want the chance to tell him face-to-face. So in Keith's book he was damn patient, even if the words fly out of his mouth before he's hardly crossed the threshhold.

"Really well, I think," Shiro's voice sounds bashful but happy. Really happy. Keith takes that as a good sign, even if Shiro still doesn't look up from his hands. That, if nothing else, is enough to prickle Keith's curiosity as he walks up behind and leans on the back of Shiro's chair.

Newsprint, epoxy, a couple of small paint brushes, and his jiji's jar which is no longer a pile of broken pieces. Shiro has been carefully piecing them back together, with only a few small fragments left to go. He must have been at this for a while.

“Oh wow, you've been busy!”

Keith leans closer to see, settling his chin on Shiro's shoulder and trying not to be too obvious as he breathes in the warm smell of the man. It's been like this for a couple months. Just affectionate friends, he tells himself. And Shiro deserves all the affection in the world, if he'll accept it.

Shiro hums contentedly, leaning back into the touch. It makes Keith's heart leap like it so often does. _This is enough,_ he thinks. _Just this._

The smile in Shiro's voice is shy and small, but it's there. “Yeah, I picked up one of these kits and just- figured I could give it new life, you know?”

Keith lets his gaze rove over Shiro's task as he soaks in the heat of Shiro's strong shoulders, the feeling settling close to his heart. Keith's breath hitches as his mind catches up to his eyes.

The small jar seems for a moment to be held together with light, slicing through the soft, familiar pattern of hydrangeas and leaves. But it's gold, filling the cracks and catching fire in the sunlight.

“Shiro,” Keith breathes, stunned.

“Hm?” Shiro holds the newest piece in place with a firm hand until the epoxy sets, placing the jar back on the newspaper.

“Gold?” Keith asks in a whisper right below Shiro's ear.

Shiro holds the last piece up, painting the edges. Keith can clearly see he's using epoxy mixed with gold leaf on what must be a yogurt lid. The tiny brush looks dwarfed in his prosthetic grip as Shiro moves with deliberate care to follow the broken edge.

“Yeah, it's,” Shiro bites his lip, focusing as he positions the last piece at the narrow mouth of the jar. Once he has it held in place between his hands, he leans back into Keith's touch. 

“It's a tradition,” Shiro continues, studying the web of gold lines beneath his fingers. “My baba used to do it. She'd say broken things are not something to hide but to display with pride.”

Keith can't resist sliding his arms around Shiro's torso, giving the man a gentle squeeze. He's heard the stories, knows how the elder Shiroganes' words of resilience helped Shiro pull through the many things he survived in his young life, including the accident that took his arm. Keith wishes they could be here for him now with their wisdom.

“And that's why you use gold?” Keith asks.

“Kintsugi,” Shiro answers, “means golden repair. Every scar can be something precious.”

“It's,” Keith swallows, his eyes burning, “it's so beautiful, Shiro.” _You're so beautiful._

Shiro is quiet for a moment, just thinking as he sets the finished work down. “It is, isn't it?”

“Definitely,” Keith holds him a bit tighter.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Of course you can,” Keith answers.

Shiro pauses for a beat and then scoffs softly to himself, shaking his head as he wipes off his hands. “This sounds so stupid.” Keith moves to protest, but Shiro continues before he can. “I just… you make me feel like this.”

“I… do?”

Shiro squirms, crossing his arms over his chest and capturing Keith's arms under his in the process. His voice is tinged with doubt as he pushes through the words. “Like I'm not damaged. Like you only see the gold. That's so corny, I'm sorry—”

“—It's true,” Keith's pulse races. “You know it is.”

“I know,” Shiro sounds so raw. Keith feels Shiro's metal fingertips brush over the back of his hand, his knuckles. “I thought I'd never see me like you do, but- I think I'm starting to.”

“Good,” Keith mumbles, his eyes stinging with reluctant tears. He will not cry, he will not cry. Keith nuzzles closer to Shiro's neck and feels the moment his lips graze over Shiro's pulse. It's an accident, an impulse he failed to restrain. Shiro's whole body shivers as he sucks in a shaky breath.

Keith freezes. He should apologize, shouldn't he? He crossed a line. Keith knows his heart is just spilling over with all this emotion— Shiro feeling safe, Shiro feeling loved and seen— but that's no excuse. He never meant to ask for more, never meant to push, and now he's gone and done just that.

Panicking, Keith slides his arms free from Shiro's gentle grip. Keith doesn't know how to read the soft sound Shiro makes in response as he pulls away.

“Sorry, I,” Keith steps back from the chair, turning to dodge Shiro's eyes that he feels following him.

“Keith?”

 _Shit shit shit,_ Keith's mind races. How is he going to repair this?

“Whoa, hey,” Shiro tries to soothe. Keith hears his footfalls approaching.

“I didn't mean to—”

He feels Shiro's hand, gentle as always on his shoulder. “Keith, hey,” Shiro murmurs, “look at me?”

Keith feels his gaze twitch upward like he has no control over it, locking on Shiro's calm gray eyes. Keith's face is burning as his heart gallops in his chest.

“This is okay,” Shiro offers, the expression on his face open and warm. “I was just surprised.”

“I should've- asked.”

“I'm answering,” Shiro says, swallowing as his eyes fall to Keith's mouth. “I want to kiss you.”

Keith feels his eyes widen as his knees shake. But this can't be what Shiro really wants. He wanted space. Somewhere safe. Keith was supposed to be safe.

“I mean it,” Shiro answers the unspoken protest as he kneads Keith's shoulder. “This is what I want, Keith.”

“You wanted time,” Keith blurts out.

“It's been months,” Shiro's brow creases with amusement, his eyes misty. He slides his hand down from Keith's shoulder, down his arm until he's gently holding his wrist. “I've had time. And I just keep falling more in love with you.”

Keith stares mutely for a long moment. 

“You love me?”

Shiro blushes as he smiles. “I've loved you for years,” he says, swinging Keith's arm gently, playfully as Keith makes a choked sound of surprise. “I thought I loved you like- a brother. Maybe I did, once, but- it's not like that now. Not for a long time.”

“A… long time,” Keith echoes.

“Too long,” Shiro's eyes lock with Keith's again. “I want you, Keith.”

“You already have me,” Keith says simply. It's raw and it's honest. He goes to him, stepping into Shiro's arms that wrap him up so well, pulling him tight against Shiro's broad chest. Keith breathes a sigh at his neck and hears how his own voice hitches.

“I want to be yours, too,” Shiro says into Keith's hair. “I want this— I want everything with you, if you'll have me.”

“Yes, Shiro, yes,” Keith's voice breaks as he clings to Shiro's body and his words.

Shiro laughs as he hugs back. It's soft and full of light and Keith's heart is just too full to contain that sound.

“So how about that kiss,” Shiro teases at Keith's ear. It sparks a fire in Keith's belly. He turns his face just enough to kiss Shiro's neck, feeling how the man's heart races, how he shudders.

“Keith,” Shiro groans, breathy and beautiful.

“What?” Keith presses his lips just beneath his ear. “You asked for a kiss,” Keith teases as his lips brush up over the corner of Shiro's jaw.

“Please,” Shiro sighs, his grip tightening. “Kiss me,” he pleads quietly. And if that didn't sear right into Keith's fantasies, nothing ever would.

Keith trails another lingering kiss along Shiro's jaw, reveling in the way the man quakes in his arms, impatient and breathless. Keith pulls back just far enough to find Shiro's eyes.

“Anything for you,” Keith says. And then he finds Shiro's lips with his.

Softness lingers between them for a few moments, lips meeting and gently exploring. It's new, the way the feeling tingles up Keith's spine. It's never been like this. Shiro makes an eager little sound and all at once Keith slides his tongue along the seam of Shiro's lips. Shiro whines, desperate as he opens for Keith to lick his way inside.

“Fuck,” Shiro pants a breath against his mouth, taking charge of the kiss as he slides his flesh fingers into Keith's hair, tilting his head for better access. The kiss becomes a blur, more hunger than finesse, and neither man complains.

Keith feels Kosmo nosing at his knee. He must bump the back of Shiro's knees, too, judging by the way he stumble-steps into Keith's space, which only deepens the kiss. They laugh into the kiss as they steady each other. Kosmo's nudging does get distracting after a while.

“What is it, boy?” Shiro mutters, still chasing Keith's lips.

“Careful,” Keith snorts, “I'm gonna think you're talking to me.” The look of surprise is priceless right before Keith slides his tongue deep into Shiro's mouth.

When they finally come up for air, Shiro rests his forehead against Keith's, sliding his nose alongside his. It's unbearably dorky and sweet. Keith wants to scoff and laugh and cry all at once. His heart can't take it.

It's taken months for Keith to stop lurching for his phone when it chimes— he had to change Shiro's text tone again. Months just to get used to Shiro being _here,_ being _safe,_ being _free._ And more slowly, being happy again. Finding his feet again. Shiro is still the same big playful dork who Keith decided long ago deserves the world. And now?

_Shiro is in love with him._

Keith lets it wash over him, holding Shiro around the waist, their dog leaning against the pillar of their legs. Keith feels the moony smile tugging at his lips and doesn't notice when he starts to sway in place. Not until Shiro hums a little sound and starts to sway with him, hips pressed tight together.

“Hey Keith?” Shiro's voice is bright and teasing.

“Yeah?” 

“Let's go dancing.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sheith friends, find me on [**twitter**](https://twitter.com/bioplast_hero)
> 
> I live and breathe your comments, including emoji dances and keysmashes— all welcome. Thank you for reading. 💗


End file.
